Two for Tea
by SvendalMunch
Summary: John Munch and his fellow Detectives in SVU are faced with a serial killing rapist with no leads. Until a late night phone call leads them to a fresh kidnapping and a particularly special victim. Will one strong willed women throw Munch's already chaotic life into an even deeper spiral? MunchxOC, ongoing (New Mature Rating)
1. Prologue: An Open File

It was another late night for Detective John Munch. He rubbed his eyes beneath his lenses and ran his fingers through is gray flecked hair, pouring over yet another case file. This one was the case of the murder and rape of Natasha Beckett. She had been kidnapped, violently assaulted, viciously raped, and dumped on the side of the road in a bloody pool. She died only an hour after being taken into the hospital. What made her case especially henious was that they had connected this particular crime to a string of unsolved through DNA found in seiman left in the victims body. He also had the same M.O: Same body parts mutilated, similar scaring, same dump technique, and this particular perp had a nasty habit of cleaning the crime scene when the detective's finally had a chance to locate it. Thirteen women, all dead and shamed with no leads beyond a psychological profile and unregistered DNA.

Munch had been over the case a dozen times. No matter how many times he looked at it, there was no connection. All the women were different races, ages, some as young as 15, no defining characteristics aside from the fact that they were all female. Even Haung was stumped. Everyone was doing whatever they could but they had no crime scene, no evidence, no suspects. They had hit a dead end.

Munch wasn't sure why he kept running it over and over, why this was getting to him. He wasn't exactly a new cop on the beat and this wasn't his first serial rapist. But something didn't sit right to him.

"_Natasha Beckett, Age 24, Race Hispanic_

_Mutiple cuts on breasts and lower abdimon, severe vaginal truma, bruises along spine and knee caps, broken teeth, clumps of hair ripped out of scalp. Seiman was found but no match in the database. Cause of death: Internal bleeding._

_Body was found stripped and laid on a beach towel on a bench in central park. Eyes had been glued open. A small wad of cloth had been inserted into her mouth and tap-"_

A strange weight on his shoulder jerked him from his thoughts. The hand of Olivia Benson squeezed him comfortingly. "Time to call it a night, Munch." she encouraged, patting him.

"Yeah, I know." Munch adimitted, closing the case file "Just a little light reading."

Dectective's Elliot Stabler and Odafin Tutuola were gathering up there things, preparing to head home. Munch stood up to do the same, slipping the case file back into his desk. "Aye, Munch" Tutuola called "You wanna go grab some dinner?"

"Gonna take me to a movie to?" Munch returned in his usual sarcastic manner.

Fin chuckled "Yeah you wanna go see a romantic comedy? Or maybe you're into slashers?"

John pulled his long dark coat over his shoulders. "Come on Fin, I prefer the classics!" he said playfully as his partner walked towards him "I thought we'd been together longer then that! I was gonna let you meet the family."

"Tch, yeah right." Tutuola retorted as Munch put an arm around him "You know I can do better then you."

The two men laughed as they headed for the door, followed by a lightly chattering Stabler and Benson. Before they could even take four steps, the phone in Captain Cragen's office rang. All of them turned on there heels.

Phone call at nine o'clock at night? They all knew what that meant. They heard the phone hit the reciever and seconds later the door swung open. "911 call. A girl's just been raped...and kidnapped."

Benson looked at Munch. "Cancel our date Fin." he declared "Stabler. I'll drive.

This was it. This was the break in the case he'd been waiting for. They had a crime scene. Looked like it'd be another night of all work and no play for the distinguished detective.

_Hello! It's been a long time since I've written anything to post! I know I don't have a great track record for ongoing stories but I've had new insperation and its a brand new year! Besides, crime drama's are my favorite! Thanks for reading and I hope you'll stick around~_

_-Sven_


	2. On The Scene

**226 VALENCE GARDENS**  
><strong>Apt. Number 23 <strong>  
><strong>Queens<strong>  
><strong>Thrusday, April 15, 11: 50 PM<strong>

"The place is completely trashed. Blood everywhere, furniture's broken...there was a defininatly a struggle."

Elliot Stabler stepped into the apartment, John Munch on his heels. Trashed was an understatement. The small home was completely up ended. The walls were covered in blood, broken chairs, papers everywhere, and shattered china in the kitchen. The victim had really put up a fight.

"Theres more in the bedroom." said the young cop, leading the detective's towards the back "That's why we called you guys."

Normally, Detective Stabler would be on the scene with his partner, Olivia Benson. But Munch had insisted he come along. He'd been the primary on a serial killing rapist for quite some time. Women were kidnapped, raped, brutalized, and then left for dead. So far, they'd only been able to find bodies after they'd been disposed. No crime scene, no witnesses, no suspects, nothing. It had been a dead end string without even established pattern. But this had his perps M.O. written all over it (and possibly, his DNA).

So Stabler wasn't opposed when Munch said he'd drive. They followed the cop into the bedroom. The sheets were shredded and some of the stuffing had bloomed out of the mattress. A small pool of red stained the left side of the bed.

The Detective's pulled on their gloves. "Who called it in?" Stabler asked, turning over the pillows.

"Uh..." the cop began his answer "It was a neighbor by the name of...Teresa Schmidt."

Munch reached into the small slit in the mattress and withdrew some of the stuffing. He noticed a small clump of hair. "Got something." he said carefully tweasing it out.

The hair had a small amount of bloodied flesh attached. Munch bagged it as evidence "Found hair, brunette, looks like it was ripped out."

"Maybe during the struggle?" Stabler suggested, straighting.

He inspected near the red stain. "Munch, could you get the lights?"

Munch stod up and reached for the light switch and Stabler withdrew his black light. When the room was thrown into darkness, he swept it across the bed. There were traces of fluids around the stain and on the pillow. "Is Mrs. Schmidt up to talking?" Munch asked.

"Actually, shes waiting in the leasing office."

Munch and Stabler entered the the leasing office. The officer pointed them towards a set of couches. There sat an older women, she was wearing a night dress and slippers, her hair pulled up in curlers. She looked a little fearful. The detectives came up to her. She didn't notice them at first, she was staring striaght in front of her, wide eyed and lost. Stabler cleared his throat and she jerked, whipping her head around.

"Excuse me, Miss Schimidt?" He asked.

"Misses." She returned "My husband died only last year."

Munch stepped forward. "We're sorry for your loss." he offered, followed by his introduction "I'm Detective Munch, this is Detective Stabler."

The women nodded. "You're here because I called about her aren't you?"

The detective's exchanged looks. "Who was it that lived in that apartment?" Stabler questioned.

The women looked at him before ringing her hands. "Dear Ann." she replied, her gaze falling to her fingers "Sweet girl, very smart. She came over every week to drive me to the grocery store after Alan died."

Munch sat himself on the couch next to her. "Can you tell us what happened to Ann?"

The women's eyes flitted to the older detective. He leaned in to listen as she straightened up to begin her tale.

"Ann had just left my apartment. She had stopped by to drop off cat food she'd picked up on the way home from work. She did that sometimes. She seemed tired but she insisted she could stay over and change the cat litter. She worked all the time. Poor girl...she didn't have a lot of friends."

Munch cut in "Why would you say that is?"

Mrs. Schmidt eyed him. "People seemed to think she was a know-it-all." She admitted, the hand ringing becoming more quick "She wasn't really sure how to communicate with people. Her heart was in the right place but sometimes her mouth got ahead of her."

"So what happened next?" Stabler encouraged.

Mrs. Schmidt continued "After enough urging, she finally went back to her apartment. She usually puts on tea and turns on the news. She's working on a degree in journalism so she likes to watch and learn."

Munch nodded, stifling his usual sarcasm.

"But I never heard the tv come on. Then there was a loud thump, it sounded like a kick to the wall. I jumped and scared Fiskar, my cat. At first I thought it was nothing...but then...I heard her scream."

Munch pursed his lips. "She screamed? Did anyone else hear?"

"No one else listens." she hissed "Especially not for Ann."

Munch could tell she had been flustered and he attempted to sooth her "She really means a lot to you."

"Of course she does." Mrs. Schmidt answered "Ever since Alan passed, shes the closest to family I have."

A tear blossomed from the corner of her wrinkled eye. "Please continue, Mrs. Schmidt." Stabler urged.

Mrs. Schmidt began with the hands again. "She screamed. But it wasn't a scream of terror. She screamed 'Call 911! Don't leave your Apartment' and then she was cut off by another loud bang. I stayed put for about...20 minutes before I called. I was terrified. I could here banging and shattering. By the time the police arrived..."

Mrs. Schmidt closed her mouth. That seemed to be the end of her tale. But Munch had a few more questions. "Have you see anyone hangin around lately? Tall, dark, and creepy?"

Mrs. Schmidt shoke her head. "No one strange has been here." She added "And even though everyone around here will turn a blind eye, no one would hurt Ann."

Munch nodded. He then reached in his jacket and handed her a card. "If you think of anything else that might help us, gimme a call, alright?"

He began to stand, motioning to Stabler. But before he could straighten, Mrs. Schmidt's fingers grasped the Detective's wrist. "Please." she begged, staring straight into's Munch's eyes "Please find the man that took her. Find Ann."

Munch placed his hand around hers "We're gonna do whatever we can to get this guy."

She let go. She withdrew into herself, staring blankly at the table. Munch and Stabler headed back towards the crime scene. "How come she was the only one that heard the victim scream?" Stabler commented.

"Dun know." Munch retorted "Guess we'll disturb there beauty sleep in the morning."

The two Detectives had begun a deeper investigation of the scene. They were able to pull several finger prints as well as some contrasting blond hair's. Munch was lifting a particularly bloody print when he noticed a frame on the mantle. It depicted a girl, no older then eighteen, standing in a cap and gown. No one stood with her at this triumphent moment. She was mid height, long brunette hair, bright green eyes.

"Seems or victim really wasn't social." he said, picking the frame up and waving it towards Stabler "Not even a parent in her graduation picture."

"Eh, maybe they didn't get along?" Stabler suggested.

"Nah, mommy and daddy loved her very much." Munch denied, pointing "See the school banner? That's a private school logo. St. John's Academy. You have to give up a kidney just to get an application."

"Rich girl, huh? Wouldn't know it from this place."

Munch moved into the kitchen. "It shows in her taste in china." he called, sniffing the contents of the tea pot "Smells expensive, but then again, I'm not much a of a tea guy myself."

"You a coffee man, Munch?" Stabler joked.

Munch riffled through the cabinet's "Oh, I like myself a good steaming cup of justice." he replied, swinging the door.

The hinge creaked, the inside of the door had an enormous crack. Splattered on it was, yeah, still more blood. "This can't all be the victims." Stabler exhaled, sounding exasperated.

"Maybe it's not." Munch shrugged "We won't know until we get all this to forensics."

"Look here." Stabler pointed to fair sized hole in the wall.

Munch bent down to get a better look. "Could be from the kick that Mrs. Schmidt claims she heard."

Stabler pulled out a small camera. First he took a picture of the wall, and then of several of the other points of interest.

"This girl put up a hell of a fight." Stabler commented, looking back around at the place.

"If we had to be grateful for one thing, it's that we went from no evidence, to an apartment full in one night thanks to her will power." Munch admired.

The evidence was piling up by the moment. Hair, blood, a witness...But something stuck in Munch's mind. "Her first instinct wasn't to scream in terror." he noted, surveying the hole in the wall again "Instead of fear, she yelled to call 911 and urged Mrs. Schmidt to stay somewhere safe."

He surveyed the room as Stabler finished the pictures. "She kept collected long enough to call for help, and, with the state the apartment, she made as much noise and caused as much damage to this guy as possible..."

The conversation ended there as Stabler's cellular went off. He answered with a flick of his wrist. "Stabler...Yeah..." His eyes flicked in Munch's direction.

"Sure, we were about finished here...Yeah we're on our way."

He hung up his cell and slipped it back in his belt. "That was Liv." He explained "Someone came down to the station. Said they saw something in the alley down the street."

Munch extended his arm towards the door. "After you detective."

The two men grabbed the bags, placing the last bit of forensic's inside, and exited.

_Wow, I'm on a roll! I've been sitting on a murder mystery like this for some time. SVU gave me a perfect excuse! So I hope you enjoy the ride as MUNCH as I'm enjoying writing it! Thanks for reading!_

_-Sven_


	3. Tea Leaves

**SVU Headquarters**  
><strong>Wedensday April 15th, 6:30 AM<strong>

Munch rubbed his temples in small slow circles. This case was going to be the death of him. After they interogated the man who said he'd seen something (finding he had actually simply seen two teenager's having consentual sex in an alley way), Stabler and Munch (accompained this time by Tutuola and Benson) canvas'd the apartment complex. Two other neighbors poked there heads out and asked if the girl in apartment 23 had stopped making a racket.

One particular tennet, profused that this wasn't the first time she'd caused a ruckus. The well dressed blonde had explained to detective's that she usually made a scene, a desperate out cry for attention, every other week. Anywhere from arguments with visitor's to throwing fits in her apartment. He rushed off to work before the cops could get more out of him. The one thing all the tennets seemed to agree on was that SOMEONE had made quite a comotion in 23.

Forensic's was annalyzing the prints and DNA as Munch tried to keep is coffee down. They may have piled up evidence but so far, they had no suspect. No one strange had gone in and out of the apartment (pending the tapes they were waiting for from the leasing office camera's) and no one had actually seen anything.

Munch stood up, mug in hand. The board before him had pictures of all of the past cases relating to the Ann-Marie current abduction. He reached up and tapped the picture he'd obtained from the apartment next to the other victims. Just as he was about to collapse in his chair and take a breath, Captain Cragen strode in. "What have we got?" he asked, command in his voice.

Munch, being the primary on this string of cases, spoke first. "Victim's name is Ann-Marie Clome. Twenty two, abducted from her apartment in Queen's. Similar M.O. to the man who was responsible for Natasha Beckett."

Stabler spoke up next "There was a serious struggle, lot of blood and hairs found at the scene. Forensic's is analyzing them as we speak."

Benson stood next "No one witnessed the crime but several tennet's heard quite a racket. But no one saw it go down." She lifted the first page on her clipboard and continued "One witness, Miss Teresa Schmidt-"

"Misses." Munch corrected.

She had insisted heavily on the misses. Munch didn't like to miss things like that. "Right, sorry." Olivia corrected herself "Mrs. Schmidt claimed she heard the victim scream for her to call 911 and stay inside the apartment."

"The lady also claims that she heard parts of the struggle, one being the sound of a wall being kicked in." Fin added his piece "We found a hole that could have been made during the kidnapping."

It came back to Munch "Based on our kidnappers M.O. and his last victim, he holds them for anywhere between three days to a week. Not a very big window"

"So in other words we don't have any suspects or witnesses and a three day window to find this girl." Cragen began.

"Yes, but we're getting Huang in here to help us try and establish a pattern." Munch replied, rolling up his sleeves "We're re-examing all the cases relating to Ann and we're having Doctor Warner take another look at Miss Beckett's body. Who says the dead can't talk?"

"Here's what I need..." Cragen began "We've got a girl out there and not a lot of time to find her. I want someone talking to anyone who might have known her. Benson, Stabler, I want you two on it."

"We'll start at her job." Benson said, slipping her arms into the sleeves and adjusting her jacket "See if anyone suspicious had been around."

The two exited. "Munch." Cragen turned his attention to the older detective "You and Fin need to reinterview the family members and friends of past victims. Start with the Beckett case and work your way back."

"Alright, lets start with her old room mate, Cecilia Mayard." Munch suggested, looking at his compiled binder of people related to the past victims "She lived in the same dorm room, shes gotta have something."

**Omonia Cafe**  
><strong>32 Broadway, Long Island City<strong>  
><strong>Wednesday Apirl 15th, 9:00 AM<strong>

Munch and Fin graciously accepted their coffee's from Miss Mayard and waited until she had seated herself across from them. "We apperciate you meeting with us, Miss Mayard." Odafin opened "We know this must be hard for you."

Cecilia smiled warmly to the detectives. "I was a little surprised when detective Munch called me and asked if I would mind talking about Nat again." she admitted, sipping her tea "Did something happen?"

John and Fin looked at each other. "A girl's been kidnapped." Tutuola confessed, shifting "We think the perv that killed Natasha might be responsible for this."

Cecilia's eyes widened a bit. She moved her hands to her lap. "I...I see..."

Munch extended his sympathy's. "I'm truely sorry for what happened to your friend, Cecilia. But we need your help to catch this guy so he doesn't take another innocent life."

Cecilia thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay." She agreed, looking between the two gentleman "How can I help?"

Munch took the lead. "Can you reaccount for us what you remember about the day the Natasha was attacked?"

Cecilia thought for a moment. "It was a rainy day." she began "I remember because I was going to see my boyfriend, Joey, and I'd forgotten my umbrella. When I was leaving the apartment, Nat got a phone call from the school. One of her papers hadn't gone through properly and the professor was seeing if she could fax it over. She always had everything in on time, but the storm had knocked out the internet connection and her email never went through."

She took a moment to take another sip of her tea and to adjust her long black curls. "When I was leaving, she yelled for me to leave the door open. She said she'd be following right behind me to get to the library."

Her hands gripped her cup more tightly. Munch immediatly waved off what she was thinking. "It wasn't your fault, Cecilia." Munch offered "You can't keep holding yourself responsible for what happened."

Cecilia nodded, taking a deep breath as tears threatened her eyes. "I know..." She shifted and continued "That was the last time I saw her. When I came back, she wasn't back. I thought she had just gone out."

She rubbed a spot on her arm. Fin spoke this time. "Do you remember seeing anyone else around when you were leaving the apartments?"

Cecilia thought for a moment. "Only our downstairs neighbor. Handsome guy. Didn't keep himself well though. Never looked well shaven. But he was shy, never really talked to anyone. Tall and blond. Always in a matience uniform."

Munch opened the binder he'd brought along. He double checked her description with the case reports. "Says here his name was Damiean O'Rilley." Munch read "He had an air tight alibi for the time of the kidnapping. We had him on camera at a drugstore."

Cecilia looked confused. "But...I saw him five minutes before I left..."

Munch and Fin looked between each other once more. "Was there anything off about the apartment when you got home that night?" Fin asked.

Cecilia took a moment to think. "No, not particularly." she responded "Just that it was very clean. I'd figured Nat had cleaned up before she left..."

"More like the killer made sure he didn't leave a trace." Munch commented off handedly.

Cecilia looked concerned. Munch and Fin took a quick look back over the previous testimoney. The story seemed to come up exactly the same. "We're sorry we took up your time, Miss Mayard." Fin apologized, begining to stand.

Munch followed after him. "We apperciate your help."

Cecilia nodded, bringing her tea closer to her face. As Munch passed, he inhaled. He stopped dead in his tracks. Fin stopped to, looking confused. Munch turned back to Cecilia, looking at the beverage in her hand. "Excuse me, one more question."

Cecilia looked taken aback. "Sure."

"When did you start drinking that specific type of tea?" Munch questioned.

Cecilia looked down into her cup, thrown off by the question. "Drajeeling tea?" she asked quizically "It was Nat's favorite drink. She always kept it in the dorm."

"Could she have been drinking it at the time of the kidnapping?" he followed up.

"Almost certainly." Cecilia responded, still sounding dumbfonded.

"Thank you."

Munch passed Fin, placing a black fedora on his head. "Yo, whats up with the tea thing?"

"Are missing girl had just brewed herself a pot of the same tea before she had the fight of her life."

~~~~~  
><em>Oh ho ho ho I can't stop writing! The case if just flowing through me! WHat will the tea have to do with the murder? We just don't know. Thanks for reading!<em>

_-Sven_


	4. I'm Detective Munch

Back at the precinct, Olivia and Elliot were going over what they had found out, when Munch and Fin came back. "Well that was quick." Benson noticed "I thought you had a ot of ground to cover?'

"Things went a little quicker then expected." Fin answered "The first person we interviewed gave us something. From there, we just made a couple of phone calls."

Stabler crossed his arms. "You wanna wait for Doctor Huang? He should be here any second."

Munch tossed his coat and hat on to his desk. Without saying a word, he tapped something to the board. When he stepped back, the detective's all stepped forward to have a look. Now hanging above all 14 victim's was a tea bag containing silver tipped tea leaves.

"Drajeeling tea." Munch stated simply.

"And what does it have to do with our perp?" Stabler asked, accepting a cup of coffee from Benson.

"It seems all of our victim's had rich tastes." Munch explained "When the perp attacked, it was right after one of our victims had just brewed up a pot."

"Munch discovered it interviewing the old room mate. She was drinkin it, said Beckett turned her on to the stuff." Fin seated himself at his desk, near the board "Munch remembered the scent from the apartment. He'd taken one of the tea bags as evidence so we checked. Same kind of tea."

"I made a few calls" Munch added "Family members say all the other victims had a special place in there cabinet for the leaves."

Stabler stepped in "We also found out that our victim? Orphaned five years ago when her parents died in a scuba accident in the tropics. No wonder she spent so much time with the widow."

Munch looked down at the floor. "That explains the grad picture..."

Just then Doctor Huang stepped into the room. "What have you got for me detectives?"

As Munch explained the case, Benson took a call from forensics.

"Recently, we discovered that the one connecting factor..." Munch wrapped up his findings "...is that all of the victim's shared a fondness for the same type of tea."

Haung thumbed his chin. "Thats not uncommon in sexual predators with traumatic pasts. Sometimes its the color of a victims hair or a certain habit they have that triggers them." He explained "In this case, the scent of the tea may remind him of someone from his past. Likely a mother or a trusted adult who abused him."

He continued "The level of torture he inflicts on his victim's shows he wants to disgrace them. He cuts them in place that dewomanize them, shaming them for their sex. He sees these women as lower then dirt. He doesn't hit them. The bruises are likely from the rapes, knee caps for oral and spine for when he forces himself on them. On all of the recovered bodies, the eyes have been glued open. That means he wants them to watch what he does to them, to see every second of it. He gets off on seeing the look in there eyes when he tortures them. He dumps the bodies where he knows they'll be discovered. He wants people to see his work."

"What about the abduction sites?" Fin put in "The places turn up spotless before anyone can get near them?"

"He cleans the places in access because he wants to erase the girls. He leaves there belongs but takes away photos and tries to destroy there existence."

Munch's grinding teeth were almost audiable. "So he picks um up, rapes them, tortures them, leaves um for dead, and then erases them from existence all because they sip on the same leaf water?"

"I guess you could put it like that." Huang returned "Someone in his past abused him so badly, he believes all women are vile. He's able to lead a normal life until the smell triggers him and drives him to kill. He want's whoever abused him to be completely oblidrated from existence."

Munch twisted the paper in his hand. "I really wanna nail this scumbag."

The sound of a phone hitting the reciever made the men turn around. "That was forensics." Olivia answered their questioning looks "They're finished with the analysis."

"The DNA pulled from the crime scene matches the seiman found on all your other victims." Doctor Warner stated "It's definatly the same guy."

"Yeah, tell us something we didn't know." Munch spat, hands in his pockets.

"Easy, Munch." Fin urged.

Warner gave the older detective a look of contempt before continueing. "Most of the blood on the crime scene was contaminated from the struggle. However, the sample from the bedsheets only belonged to our victim."

Munch was rolling his eyes. "Get to the good stuff, Doc." Fin encouraged, becoming impatient.

Warner pursed her lips before giving her big finish. "The blood on the sheets was from a newly broken hymen."

Munch shoke his head "...our victim was a virgin."

Fin joined in the disbelief. "All the other victims had reportedly lost their virginity prior to the attack..."

"She was a virgin alright." Warner asserted "And, judging by the amount of blood, you're perp isn't excactly petite."

Munch's hands balled into fists. "Cocky son of bitch." he hissed.

Warner continued. "I also re examined Beckett."

"Did you find tea in the stomach contents?" Fin asked.

Warner looked over her sheet again. "Yes, I did." She admitted "Otherwise there was nothing new to report."

"Thanks for trying, Warner." Munch sighed.

"I'll let you know if I find anything else." She part mumbled, still not pleased with the detective's out bursts.

"Lets go back to the apartment, see if we missed anything." Fin suggested, leading his partner towards the door."

"I swear I'll be there when they put the needle in this guys arm."

**226 Valence Garden's**  
><strong>Apt. Number 23<strong>  
><strong>Wedensday Apirl 16th, 1:00 PM<strong>

The partner's were heading up the stairs to the crime scene, planning on sweeping for more evidence, in case they missed something. "You know, in almost every case, they've apprehended a blond fellow. But they always have an alibi that-"

Munch stopped mid sentance. They opened the door to Ann's apartment. The place was empty, wiped clean from top to bottom. There were no personal belongings what so ever, just basic furniture. All the china, papers, photographs. Gone. Even the hole in the wall had been filled in.

It was more then he could handle. Munch yelled in anguish and kicked the edge of the couch.

"That vile bastard!" he growled, throwing his hat on the ground in indignation "How could this have happened?!"

Fin grab Munch's shoulder's "Take it easy, skelator." he commanded, retstraining him "Easy."

Munch couldn't take it easy. This guy had slipped under his abnormally slender nose and come back to clean up. He would have needed hours. John pulled out his cell and dialed furiously and then placed it to his rather large ear. "Yeah, this is detective Munch with SVU. I need to know who in the hell was the last cop at the Clome place...yeah...NOW."

Fin noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He followed it to see Mrs. Schmidt. "Aye Munch, cool it for a sec." he said, tapping his shoulder and pointing toward her.

Munch turned around mid rant, seeing the now quite stratled Mrs. Schmidt. He hung up on the police station and addressed the older women. "Sorry to startle you, Mrs. Schmidt. How you holdin up?"

She stepped into the apartment, pulling her shaw around her. "As good as one could hope, considering, thank you." she returned, sounding indignet.

Fin took over. "Mrs. Schmidt, did you see anyone come in or out of this apartment?" he asked.

The woman seemed to shiver. "A mantinence man came. He told me the police were done with the crime scene and that he was here to fix the hole in the wall."

She looked straight at Munch. "It was him, wasn't it?" she questioned.

"We can't be sure of that at the present time." Fin answered and then exchanged "What did this man look like?"

Without hesitation she described him "He was taller, blond hair, poorly shaven. He mumbled when he talked, it was rather rude. He had blue eyes..."

Munch and his partner exchanged looks. "Anything else?" Fin questioned tentatively.

Mrs. Schmidt sighed "He...apologized a lot. Said he would try and be in and out quickly."

"When was this?"

"He left...maybe an hour ago?"

Both men gave their thanks. They urged her to head back to her apartment and stay there until they could send someone to take her testimoney. Just as she was heading out of the apartment, she let out a loud blood curtteling scream. Munch and Fin rushed to her side.

There, laying on the ground in front of her, was the form of a body, shaking harshly and covered in blood. "ANN MY DEAR ANN!" She screeched, falling to the ground and scooping the body to her.

Munch dropped next to Mrs. Schmidt. Upon closer inspection, he saw that her feet and hands were tied. Bad scraps covered her legs and arms as if she'd crawled her way to this spot. She was covered in blood, naked, and shaking. Mrs. Schmidt was hysterical.

"T...Teresa..." a voice whispered.

Munch gentley prised Mrs. Schmidt from her. "This is detective Tutuola, I need a Bus at The Venece Garden's now!" Fin commanded over his walkie Talkie "We got a girl, lost a lot of blood!"

Munch finally managed to remove the screaming widow. He yanked his coat off and wrapped it around her body. It was then that he looked into the trembleing face of Ann-Marie Clome. Her eyelids had been glued open, staring into painful darkness. Her eyes were a beautiful bright green...

"Ann-Marie, I'm detective Munch." He soothed "Helps on the way, okay?"

Fin was already slamming the numbers to their superior in his cell. Munch turned his head to tell him to have Stabler and Benson hurry here, but he felt a tug on his shirt. He looked back down at the feeble women in his arms, tears spilled from her wide eyes. "I...I got away..." she whispered, voice cracking.

_WHAT A TWIST! ahahaha wow I just can't stop writing. its insane. This story is pulling everything out of me. I don't even care if no one reads this I'm excited!_

_-Sven_


	5. Bedside Story

**Elmhurst Hospital**  
><strong>79-01 Broadway<strong>  
><strong>Elmhurst<strong>  
><strong>Wedensday April 16th, 5:00 PM<strong>

The detective's sat in the waiting room of the Elmhurst hospital. Elliot's head was leaned against the wall, mouth hung open, a low snore escaping his throat. Olivia supported herself with her fanned hand, fighting to keep her eyes open while a now very silent Mrs. Schmidt clutched her other arm. Fin was choking down is fourth cup of coffee and rereading the same sports article over and over. All the detectives of the 16th percinct were fighting through their third day straight of no sleep.

The only one who seemed unaffected was Munch. He was pacing back and forth across the waiting room, biting his thumb. The wait for Ann-Marie Clome to come out of surgery was proving to be harder then expected. He couldn't wrap his head around this girl. She had not only kept her head when she was attacked, calling out to her listening neighbor to call 911 and stay safe, to her making sure they had DNA evidence with the blood and hairs from their struggle, but she had managed, bloody, bound and blind to drag herself out of that hell and to someone who could help. If she didn't pull through...

"Detective Munch?"

Munch spun on his heel to face the surgeon. Tutuola and Benson stood up, jarring Stabler. He to snapped up, stifling a yawn. Mrs. Schmidt stayed sitting, looking fearful. "Well?" Munch asked exhasperatedly.

"She's out of surgery and concious." She replied, looking down at her charts "She won't be out of bed for at least a week, but she'll make a full recovery."

She handed the charts to Munch. "Whatever it was that happened to her, shes one hell of a fighter. She's lucky to be alive."

Munch skimmed the chart documenting her injuries. The list seemed endless. "I'll need copies of these charts." he stated, handing the board back to the surgeon.

She accepted it and nodded. "You're free to speak with her if you'd like. She's asking to see you."

"Me?" Munch asked, figuring she would have wanted to see Mrs. Schmidt.

The surgeon shrugged. "She said she wanted to see Detective Munch."

Munch looked back at his fellow detectives. "I'll take Stabler and go back to the scene, see if we can find where she came from." Fin decided, walking towards Munch and patting his shoulder "Call us if you hear anything."

Munch nodded "Keep Elliot here from nappin on the job, would ya?"

Stabler huffed, causing him to yawn once more. But he looked at Benson. "I'll stay here with Mrs. Schmidt." She said, returning to sit with the tearful widow.

"Good luck, Munch." Stabler wished, also giving his coworker a comforting pat.

The two men exited the waiting room and Munch turned. "Thanks Olivia." Munch said.

She waved it off, asking Mrs. Schmidt if she'd like to get something to eat. As they left, John also exited, making his way to the room of the self rescued victim.

_Knock knock knock_

"Come in, I'm decent."

John Munch stepped into the hospital ward. The room was low lite, likely because of the retinal damge she'd suffered. "Hello Ann-Marie."

"Just call me Ann." she responded, pulling aside the bed curtains "or I guess Marie if you'd like. Both are technically viable."

She looked at the Detective. In contrast to the picture in her apartment, she looked a bit older now. Her hair was cropped short and was missing a few small patches. Her face had a large gash down the side and her eyes were red. Depite her injuries, she was actually quite beautiful. "You're detective Munch, I take it?"

Munch looked at her. "I recognized your voice." she put simply.

"You remembered my voice? You were delirous from pain."

"And all I remember is you introducing yourself, placing a jacket around me, and holding me until the ambulance arrived."

He smiled "You've got an excellent memory." he complimented.

The girl adjusted where she was sitting. "You're here to ask me what happened and who did this to me, yes?"

Munch chuckled. "Slow down, sweet heart." He urged, raising a hand "I'm more concerned about you and if you're okay."

This time, it was Ann who chuckled. "Detective, I'm well aware that you will want my statements as quickly as possible so you can keep this man from hurting another women. Which is also what I want. So please, can we just get it over with?"

Munch moved closer. "Okay...but can I ask you something for myself first?"

Ann eyed the older gentlemen. "What do you want to know?"

Munch reached out and held Ann's hand comfortingly. Ann looked down at her hand then back up at the detective. "How on earth did you manage to..."

"Escsape from my assalinte?" she finished for him.

Munch squeezed her hand. He'd felt it shiver in fear. After the squeeze, her hand gentley wrapped around the detectives. "I'm all ears, Ann." he said, pulling a chair to the bed side with his foot "Literally, they're 60% of my face."

She let out a ringing laugh. It was the first time John heard Ann laugh. She smiled at him. "You must be the life of your office, Detective."

"Belive it or not, they think I'm a cynical conspiracy nut." he said in a mock secret "You get caught reading an article on 9/11 theories one time...okay maybe twice...that thursday."

Again, her voice rang with laughter. "You are a riot." she giggled.

When she finished, she let out a sigh. "I think the best way to answer your question is to tell you what happened."

Munch surveyed the younger girl. She sat up straight and held herself with pride and dignity. Yet, her hand never left his. She grasped it and Munch could feel an ever so slight shake.

"Go ahead, Ann." Munch said "Tell me your story."

Ann took a deep breath:

"I'll go ahead and skip the priors about my visiting Mrs. Schmidt since I'm sure she talked to you already. I'll start from when he grabbed me. I suppose I must not have latched the door, but I know I had locked it. He came at me from behind, I dropped the tea cup I was holding. First thing I did was bite him. He let me go for a moment. I kicked through the wall, making sure to get Mrs. Schmidt's attention. I yelled to her to dial 911 and to stay inside her apartment. I knew what was about to happen. I had seen the Beckett case on TV. I wanted to make sure NYPD had something to work with. After he grabbed my mouth I pushed myself off the wall, slamming him into the cabinets. He was saying a lot of things but I wasn't listening. I was too busy trying to do as much damage as possible. I think I was able to yank some of his hair out."

Munch nodded. "We found plenty of hairs. You did well." he complimented "When did the struggle stop?"

The answer was swift "When he slammed my head into the mantle. I was still concious but I couldn't fight anymore. He dragged me by my hair into the bedroom. He threw me on to the bed, flipping me over. Thats when I saw him for the first. Blond, tall, blue eyes. He had a scar above his right eye. He ripped off my clothing."

She stopped and reached for a glass of water that rested on her bed side table. Munch saw her lip quiver as she drank. She was trying so hard to hide her fear and weakness.

"He strated fondeling me. It was rough. Not that I really know the difference." She joked, her humor seeming twisted "I just know it hurt, but I didn't fight back. He forced himself into my mouth. I tried to bite him but he punched me in the stomach and said he'd be happy to knock my teeth out. I complied. I guess I'm just a little vain about my teeth."

SHe did have quite the set of pearly whites. Another sip of water. "He ejaculated in my mouth. I flipped my head and spit it on the pillow. He smacked me for doing it. The more DNA I left laying around, the better. Next he flipped me onto my back. I closed my eyes. But then he whispered 'You think you'll get the easy way out? No way bitch.' And thats when he..."

She stopped. She had opened her mouth to speak, but she had choked on the words. Munch could see her crack. Tears came spilling down her cheeks and she collapsed back into the bed. "H-he...I didn't even use his penis..." she whispered.

Munch placed his other hand over the hand he was still holding. His thumb moved back and forth in a soothing motion. "I...I'm sorry detective, I just...need a moment." She gasped between sobs.

"Take as long as you need." He nodded.

Her hand gripped his hard. Because she had fought back, he had truley shamed her. She had lost her virginty in the most humiliating way.

Ann began to sit up again. "I'll...continue." She declared.

"If you need some time..." Munch tried to say, but she waved her hand.

"Please, I'd like to get this over with." she admitted.

Munch nodded. "He sodimized me. I'm almost certain it was a chair leg broken off from when I had been fighting. It...it hurt. It felt like I was ripping ap-..."

She stopped again. Munch stode up. "Maybe it'd be easier if you spoke with detective Benson?"

But her second hand wrapped around Munch's. "No...it's hard no matter who I tell it to. I'd rather tell it to you since you already...saw..."

She couldn't look at him. In her eyes, this stranger had seen her naked and vulnerable, something no man had seen before. She had been forced to let him see a side she considered to be shameful before she even knew his name. She now trusted him because, not doing so would make her feel dirty...

Munch sat back down. He'd been doing this job for longer then he cared to think about, but it never got any easier. "Go ahead." he encouraged.

"After he had finished with me, he injected some kind of drug into my arm. I blacked out. When I came back around I was chained up to a heater in one of the rooms of my complex. But only by my wrist."

Munch froze. "You never left the building?"

"No." she answered "Do you really think I could have drug myself from anywhere else?"

He'd been under there nose the entire time. She'd been there, waiting for them to rescue her. "What happened while you were there?" he asked tentetivly.

She sighed. "More sodomizing, the cutting started as soon as I woke up. He glued my eyes open. Said he wanted me to see every second."

Munch was stroking her hand with his thumb again. This girl had been through hell on earth and yet, she sat here, resolute. "How did you escape?"

Ann laughed. "Because my rapist was an idiot." she admitted "He left me restrained but not tied to anything after the first time I woke up. He thought he had me in the palm of his hand."

She sat straighter, her pride returning. "The second time I awoke, someone came. I heard him talking. I wanted to scream, but I had been gagged. It sounded like a detective asking questions. I tried to throw myself down so I could be seen, but he had rushed them off. I hit the ground and blacked out again. When I awoke, he was slapping me. I spit in his face since he'd ungagged me. He slammed my head into the wall and forced my eyelids open, glueing them that way. He started cutting me again, sodimizing. He was about to slice open my left nipple when someone started knocking frantically on the door."

"He dropped the knife, kicked me in the jaw, and then went to the door. Someone came inside. They started talking but I couldn't hear very well. Something about cleaning up and cops and an alibi. He came back in the room. He grabbed me by the mouth and said when he came back, this time he'd give me the goods. He kicked me again, I pretended he'd knocked me out. I heard him wash his hands and then leave."

She wasn't going to stop this time. "As soon as I was sure he'd gone, I pulled myself up. The ties on my legs were loose enough for me to shuffle into the main room. I admit, I could have tried for a knife, but I knew I didn't have much time. I drug myself to the door. I turned and shimmyed myself to a standing position as best I could against the counter side. I almost fell just trying to lift my arms. I barely turned the door knob and pulled it. After that I did collapse. I nudged the door open with my foot. I was able to drag myself out the door. I crawled to the stairs. I could hear voices from the floor above me. It sounded like someone was upset. I started to try climbing. I heard Mrs. Schmidt..."

She trailed off. Munch as astounded. "Then...well...you saw the rest."

She leaned back slowly, her strength finally failing her. "And thats my story, I suppose."

She never once let go of Munch's hand. Even now, she still held it, seeking solace in the detective's kind grip. She turned her head to look at Munch. "When I'm a little less exhausted, I'd be more then happy to speak with a sketch artist." She told him, smiling just a bit.

"You're a brave girl, Ann." Munch claimed, standing up.

Ann reluctently released his hand. "Thank you, Detective Munch." she spoke "But I just tried to survive. What in the world would Mrs. Schmidt do with out me?"

She was smiling as she closed her eyes. "And thank you for staying with me." she whispered.

Munch half smiled back. "Don't thank me, I was just doing what any gentlemen should have."

"Guess I've never met one before." she confessed.

After that, she was silent, slipping into sleep. It had taken all the strength she could muster to keep telling her story. She deserved to rest. A knock rang through the room. Munch looked over his shoulder to see Olivia. She came to stand next to him and reached out, placing comforting hand on his arm.

"This girl is extrodinary." He said to her, his eyes turning back the sleeping women.

"Hell yeah she is." Benson agreed, but she motioned for Munch to follow her "Come on Munch, we got work to do trackin this psycho down."

Munch nodded. The two made to exit the room. Olivia stepped out first to speak with the nurse, but Munch looked back one last time. Ann-Marie Clome had a smile on her sleeping face. She seemed at peace with herself. "Good for you, Ann." he muttered to himself "You got away."

_Hello again readers! I'm proud to bring you the next chapter of Two for Tea (finally, a proper name). I am really happy to feel so inspired again and to have something to write about! I hope I can keep up with this tale and bring it to a conclusion! I'd apperciate some reviews so I can hear what you guys think! Thanks! _

_-Sven_


	6. Air Tight Confusions

John Munch had just left the hospital room of Ann-Marie Clome, the victim of a brutal rape. His phone was in his hand and he pressed the number two, speed dialing his partner, Detective Tutuola. Beside him, Olivia Benson was pulling out her keys. "How did we miss this?" she asked in disbelief having just been explained the situation by Munch.

"The son of a bitch was right there all along." John hissed, holding the phone to his ear.

The line answered "You got somethin?"

"He was there in the complex." Munch answered, walking swiftly toward the hospital exit "She never left the building."

"You think we talked to the guy?"

"She said she heard us." Munch was exasperated "She was right there the whole time, Fin."

"Don't beat yourself up, Munch. None of us knew. He wiped the steps clean to..."

"He won't be there anymore." Munch cut him off "Get a list of the tennet's names and see if the manager knew if any of his male patrons were blond and liked to torture women."

"I'm on it."

Both men hung up. He turned his attention to Olivia as she unlocked the car. "He won't be there anymore." She pointed out "As soon as he figured out we got her, he'd be out of there."

Munch swung himself into the passenger's seat. "I don't know, I hear he's quite the idiot."

**226 VALENCE GARDENS**  
><strong>Queens<strong>  
><strong>Wedensday April 16th, 9:00 PM<strong>

An hour after the other two detective's arrived, they'd managed to obtain a list of male tennet's from the manager and the security footage from the night of the kidnapping and today. After a few interview's, they'd discovered that two blond male's lived there. One was Mister Charles Delport and the other, Seth Havard. Both also happened to live downstairs from Ann.

_Knock, Knock, Knock_

"Seth Havard, this is Detective Benson and Detective Stabler of the NYPD. Open up please?"

The door opened. The chain lock stopped it, but a blond man with bright blue eyes looked out. "Yes?" he asked, his voice sounding timid "How can I help you?"

Benson held up her sheild. "We'd like to speak with you, can we come in please?"

The door closed and the sound of metal on wood could be heard. It reopened more widely this time. "Come in detective's." he welcomed.

"I remember you from yesterday." Stabler commented, recalling this man being a lot more outgoing.

Mister Havard looked at Stabler "Oh...yes." He said, as if suddenly remembering the encounter "You were here about the girl upstairs."

"I'm afraid so." Olivia responded, "I know you already spoke with us, but we're wondering if you could give us some more information."

The man glanced at her, refusing to make eye contact. "I don't really know much more then I already told you." he replied "I don't talk to many of the residence and I barely knew the girl upstairs."

"Last time I was here, you said Ann liked make a fuss." Stabler noted, recolleting his prior interview "You said she enjoyed causing a scene."

Seth thought for a moment, then nodded. "Can you elaborate on that? Maybe explain a situation where Ann and one of the visitor's you mentioned had an alltercation?"

Stabler waited for him to speak. Havard seemed to be thinking. "I...I remember once" he began "She and a young man entered the complex, arguing. I wasn't really listening. They got very loud, something about him being...the word sounded very big and science related. Then I guess she stormed off."

He shrugged, putting his hands on the counter. "You said last time we spoke that, the night Miss Clome was kidnapped, you were out. Can you tell us where?"

This time, he didn't hesistate. "I was shopping for grocery's at the market down the street." He moved over and opened a drawer "I keep all of my reciepts."

The two detective's looked at one another. "How long have lived here, Mister Havard?" Benson asked, her hands finding her hips.

Again, no hesitation "6 months." he said "I'm not sure if I want to sign another six. This doesn't seem like a quiet place at all."

Stabler had crossed his arms. He didn't know what to think of this guy. The first time he'd spoken to him, he was clean cut and on his way to a desk job, blowing them off about some chick upstairs who liked to make a fuss. But the man before them was a man who just looked like all he wanted was a little peace and quiet. Suddenly he turned around. "Here. I found them." he spoke, holding a long reciept out to the detective "I made a few other stops. I didn't come home until very late."

"Do you mind if we hold on to these?" Stabler asked, taking the reciepts.

The man shoke his head. Olivia stepped forward. "Mr. Havard do you know anyone in this building that could have done this?" She pleaded.

The man hesitated again before shaking his head. Benson sighed "Thanks for your time, Mr. Havard." She spoke, withdrawing a buisness card "If you think of anything, give us a call."

The man nodded and poilitely opened the door for them. As they were leaving Stabler noticed something odd. There was a utility belt drapped over the back of the chair in the living room. It looked like one someone in a maintence crew would carry. He stopped Olivia with a hand and, still staring at the belt, asked "One more question, Mr. Havard. Why do you, an accountent, have a utility belt?"

Benson's eyes now fell on it. Havard whipped his head back, looking at it. He turned back slowly. "I bought it a long time ago." He answered cooly, sounding almost mechanical "I got it out to fix the heater last night. I've been out all day and forgot to put it away."

Benson and Stabler exchanged looks. This guy was as supiscious as they came. "Thanks again for your time."

"I hope you find the man that did this." he offered, closing the door behind the detective.

Once the two had exited the apartment, Stabler spoke "This guy has creep written all over him."

Benson was looking at the date's and times on the reciepts. "Everything matches up." She admitted "If the stores have camera's hes got an air tight alibi for the kidnapping."

Just as they were turning the corner, Munch and Fin were exiting the apartment of Charles Delport.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Delport."

The door shut and Munch immediatly turned and shuffled towards the other two, disgruntled. "Nothing." he spat, jamming his hat back on his head "Please tell me your guy wasn't a souless government pig."

"Munch and Mr. Delport got into a bit of a conspiracy battle." Fin chuckled, finding Munch's ridiculous antic's more then a little amusing "He had a picture of JFK and Munch sorta-"

"It was all a government hoax for the last time." he hissed "The idiot wouldn't open his ears for two seconds and hear the truth."

"What about Havard?" Fin asked, shaking his head.

Stabler shoke his head. "Havard was suspicious, but he has a pretty tight alibi."

"We did notice a utility belt in his living room." Benson added.

The four were exiting to there cars. "Maybe he had something to do with the clean up." Fin suggested "Mrs. Schmidt did say she'd seen a guy go into Ann's apartment..."

"He's probably got an alibi for that to." Stabler grumbled.

He knew this guy was hiding something. He looked over at Munch. Benson sighed. "Lets all go home and get some sleep." she encouraged "We've had a long two days and it's about time we all rested. Ann's safe and we can't follow any of our leads till morning."

"Yeah, and maybe Ann will be ready to speak with a sketch artist." Fin offered, opening the driver side door to his car "A picture speaks a 1,000 words."

Stabler nodded. "Alright, take it easy." he replied.

Munch yanked open the passenger side door. "Munch?"

He looked over at Stabler. "We'll get this guy." he assured him "Get some sleep."

Munch gave him a nod and then steped into the car.

**16th Precinct **  
><strong>SVU Divison<strong>  
><strong>Thursday, April 16th 7:00 AM<strong>

By the time his coworkers arrived, Munch was already at his desk. He had a remote in hand and a small TV rolled beside him. Benson was the first one to arrive. She headed straight for her desk, noticing Munch. He had a deep concentration in his eyes. "Did you get any sleep?" she questioned, stretching a little as she sat.

Munch hit pause on the remote and leaned back. "Two hours." he replied "I couldn't manage more then that."

He may have cleaned up and fixed his hair, but he still looked exhausted. "You sure you're gonna be okay?"

Munch waved it off "I'll sleep when I'm dead." he responded.

Olivia looked worried. But before she could say anything, Fin walked in. "Time for another day of bustin' ass." He commented, seating himself at the desk across from Munch.

"Where's Stabler?" Munch asked casually, starting the tape back again.

"He went straight over to the store on Havard's reciepts to see if they could get us a copy of the security footage." Olivia answered.

Munch stopped the tape suddenly. "Take a look at this."

Fin and Olivia came around to the television. Munch started it up. "So here we have a blond gentleman leaving the complex at 7:34."

The subject looked up at the camera. "That looks like Havard." Olivia said, leaning around Fin "Matches his alibi."

"But here's the tricky part." Munch fast forwarded to the next day "After we came and left, no one else re entered the building. But..."

He played the tape at normal speed. The time at the top read 6:15 AM April 15th. Out of the front doors was the freshly shaven and well dressed Havard. "That was right after we questioned him."

Fin shifted "So how in the hell did he get back in the building?" he pointed out "That place got a back door?"

"Thats just it." Munch returned "There are no other doors in the building. Not even a service entrance. Only the fire escapes."

This was impossible. Unless Mr. Havard had entered from the roof, he had never come home that night. But there he was, walking out of the building after Munch and Stabler had questioned him.

Just then, Cragen entered the room. "Sketch artist is here." He informed his detective's "Who wants to escort him to Elmhurst?"

Benson and FIn both looked at Munch who was already standing up. "I'll drive him. An artist should always be driven by someone who apperciates his work."

_Come on and slam! Proud to say this is my longest fanfiction yet! And its still comin! Maybe you're starting to get the idea here! I can't wait to get to the next part! Thanks for reading!_

_-Sven_


	7. Outlines in Red

**Elmhurst Hospital**  
><strong>79-01 Broadway<strong>  
><strong>Elmhurst<strong>  
><strong>Thursday April 16th, 8:43 AM<strong>

"No, no. His nose was a bit longer, more...slender."

The sketch artist hurredly erased the portion of his render that was deemed incorrect and went back at it. Munch sat a little ways across the room, skimming through his case files once more. "Thats better." Ann responded, being shown the updated sketch "Now his jaw was just a bit more defined..."

The artist went back to work. Ann had cleared her throat loudly, hoping to gain the Detective's attention. It took a moment before Munch realized he was being solicited for his favor. "I'm sure the file hasn't changed in the last ten minutes, Detective."

Munch snapped out of his strange stupor. He looked up at the woman laying in the hospital bed. She seemed very calm, much more so then the day before. She'd taken the time to freshen herself before she allowed the two men to enter. Munch took a moment before he was able to respond. "I wasn't aware you had X-ray vision." he retorted, a little annoyed.

Ann chuckled slightly. "My apologies, Detective." she chortled, turning her eyes to him, but changing her tone said "I really apperciate your dedication to my case."

Munch sighed and closed the file, standing. "Hows the sketch coming, Picasso?" he quiped to the artist, hoping they could speed this process along.

The artist rolled his eyes. "Just a bit more to go, _sir_." he responded, hissing out the last word.

Ann tried to hold back a smile, failing spectacularly. "Why don't we take a break?" she offered "I haven't yet had my breakfast. Say...30 minutes?"

Both the artist and Munch were about to object but Ann had already lifted the phone to her ear. "Yes, I'm ready for my breakfast now. Room 26, Yes. Thank you."

Munch sighed. "Alright I guess you win, princess." he groaned, waving the artist out the door "Go get yourself a doughnut."

The artist scowled and headed out the door. Munch was about to follow suit, but Ann spoke "Breakfast is much better with company, wouldn't you say?"

Munch turned. Ann was pulling herself out of the hospital bed. "Hey woah." Munch remarked, stepping towards her "You aren't supposed to get out of bed yet."

Ann shoke her head and waved him off. "I would feel a lot better if I could just act somewhat normally rather then be cooped up in that bed all day." she said "Besides, I don't really get much chance for company."

"You've been in the hospital for a day." Munch commented casually "Not really a lot of time to write up a guest list."

"I meant period." She admitted, breaking her eye contact with the sharp dressed man of the law "I'm hard pressed to find anyone who will share my company outside of Mrs. Schmidt."

Munch surveyed her with a look of mild pity as she straightened her bed sheets. "I'm...sorry."

"Oh, it's not your fault, detective." she chuckled, turning toward him "Most people don't like a smart girl who is rich _and _good looking! I dare say I must be rather intimadating."

"Some people might call you annoying." Munch returned, but then realized what he'd said.

However, before he could correct himself, she'd laughed. "And I'm sure everyone finds your witty charm and impeciable social graces to be spot on?"

Munch grinned to himself. It wasn't often someone, let alone a lady, could keep up with his wit. His ex-partner, Jeffries, came fairly close, but Munch always got the final word. Here was this young lady dishing out whatever Munch could throw at her.

His thoughts were interupted when the nurse brought in a cart, laden with breakfast choices. "Here you are, as requested Miss Clome" the nurse announced, pulling the trolley next to the table Ann had pulled to the center of the room while Munch had been in thought.

Ann thanked the leaving nurse, not hesitating to start in on a plate. She pulled a few pancackes and several strips of bacon on top of her egg covered plate. "Feel free to help yourself, Detective." she urged, handing a plate behind her in Munch's direction "Being a little more well off then others has a few advantages."

Munch took the plate with a low sigh. He allowed himself a generous portion of suasage and some eggs. He set down the plate before grabbing a mug and the coffee pot. Once both had settled down with their breakfasts, Ann spoke. "Did you ever take your jacket to be dry cleaned, detective?" she asked, cutting a small amount of pancake and placing it in her mouth.

Munch began to pour the caffinated beverage. "I've had other things on my mind." he admitted, some what coldly.

To him, it was an odd, meaningless question. Ann seemed to chew on more then just the cake in her mouth. "A shame. Aren't you worried it'll stain?" she inquired, the state of his coat seeming to distress her.

Munch tried not to look at her. Sure, it was a nice coat and a bit dissappointing that it was now stained with her blood, but Munch had known what he was doing. "I think your diginity was a little more important then a bit of cloth." he commented, sipping his coffee "I can always buy a new one."

At this comment, Ann seemed to brightin a bit. "Well that won't be necessary!" she exclaimed.

Munch looked up to see her reaching underneath the cloth of the cart. After a moment, she withdrew a large folded object. She stood, unfurling it. In her hands was a beautiful wool long coat. It had a stiff collar and a double breasted button style in a pure black. The detective didn't know what to say. He stood slowly, unsure of how he wanted to to react. As soon as he was standing she held it by either side of the collar. "I had to guess at your size...do you mind?"

He turned, letting Ann slide the coat over his shoulders. He shrugged it the rest of the way around his body. It was a fit. It sat perfectly on his shoulders and hugged his waist with just enough room so he could comfortably wear his peace and badge at his belt. Finally finding his words, he turned to her. "You really didn't have to."

Ann smiled "It was for my concious, Detective." she replied "It might seem foolish to you but it's as much a token of my thanks as it to sooth myself. I can't stand feeling like I owe someone."

Munch looked down at his new over wear. He knew there was no way this had cost less then several hundred dollars. How could he accept? He opened his mouth to say as much but Ann shoke her head. "Don't ask questions, don't try and give it back." she stated firmly, sitting back down to her breakfast "Money is just green paper in my eyes, don't think anything of it."

Munch knew he would lose this fight. He took his new coat off and folded it over the back of his chair. He sat, returning his mug to his hand. "Thank you."

Ann's eyes fell to his. She smiled "You're welcome."

She was grinning into her cup of orange juice. Munch cracked a small smile, shaking his head. The two sat in silence for a minute, enjoying breakfast, stealing glances at one another. Munch took the moment to take her in again. She still looked rather battered, but the healing had begun. The gash on her face was less aggravated and her eyes had gone back to a gentle white. The parts where her hair had been yanked uncerimoniesly from her skull were begining to grow back in stubble. The two hands that grasped her knife and fork had small healing cuts, but otherwise looked soft and well looked after.

Ann was the one to finally break the drawn out quiet. "Well, Detective, I-"

"John."

Ann stopped mid sentance. Munch set down his mug and folded his hands. "Call me John." he repeated.

He watched Ann's face change. For a moment, she seemed shocked, but then she looked away, sipping her drink once more. "Uh...John..." she said tenetively "I was...just going to say..."

She swallowed and seemed to regain herself. "I was going to say, you know quite a bit of intimate details about my life and I hardly know more then your occupation and that you're supposedly charming."

Munch spooned a few eggs into his mouth. Thinking for a moment, he downed them and said "I'm afraid if you're looking for a heart to heart about my love life, theres nothin to tell."

Ann coughed on a bite of bacon. "Th-Thats not at all what I was implying!" she returned, hacking a bit "I meant I was curious about your daily life! Your interests! Nothing sc-scandelous!"

Munch chuckled. He'd finally tripped her up. "Easy, sweet heart." He chuckled "Whatcha wanna know?"

Ann seemed quite flustered. You could plainly see she wasn't used to being out witted. That, mixed with her very obvious shyness on subjects relating to sexual relations. It was almost...

"Anything you feel like sharing." she returned, once again, regaining her footing "It could be past lives, past wives, favorite film, favorite soup, just something to work with."

She cut into another pancake, no longer making an attempt at eye contact. Munch thought for a moment. "Well, I'm Jewish so I guess we don't really believe in past lives." he answered, sniffing slightly "Though bout the only thing I have in common with my people is that I don't care to work on the sabbath."

Ann was smiling again, still not making eye contact. John continued "As for past wives, I've had a few. Last one? Left me for my partner back when I worked Homoicide. Can you believe that?"

He made a tutting sound. "Ya think you know a guy." he chuckled sarcastically, taking another gulp of warm coffee.

Ann made eye contact again. "I'm sorry to hear that." she expressed, setting down her fork.

Munch waved his hand. "I'm a firm believer in true love and that wasn't it." he half joked "Besides, she didn't believe me when I explained the JFK assination was a setup."

He shoke his head. "No, I need a woman who isn't some government sheep." he affirmed, pointing his coffee mug at Ann "Or at least is open enough to understand..."

He began to refill is now emptied glass. Ann was eyeing him, her half finished plate forgotton. "So you _are_ a conspiracy nut." she stated sounding amused.

"Yeah, you got something to say about it?" he returned, giving her his best stare down.

Ann grinned. "If you ask me, conspiracy theorist are actually very observante people." she spoke.

John eyed her over his cup. "Go on." he encouraged.

"Well, I'm not going to say you're right. But I can't say you're wrong either. You're looking at the evidence thats presented to you through our media and history and you're making a logical assumption based on facts. Nothing has been proven beyond a reasonable doubt, you just believe a different version of the story. It's like religion, but based around actual facts rather then fiction."

She got it. Everyone else just scoffed at him or said he was outlandish, but, instead, she had simply stated that she could be convinced based on evidence. The most open minded answer he'd ever recieved from anyone outside of the groups he chatted with. "I can't tell you who shot Lincoln because I wasn't there and I can't tell you the witnesses to the JFK assination suddenly dying isn't the most supscious damn thing because I'd be lying through my teeth."

She ground her teeth indignuntly. John looked at her supsciously for a moment. "You...aren't on meds, are you?"

Ann stared back. "I have never needed mental medication, no." she responded, a little hurt.

Munch smiled. He could kiss this woman. It'd been a long time since he felt so comfortable talking to a member of the opposite sex, besides his coworkers and victims. I mean, strictly speaking, Ann was a victim. But, it was different with her.

"What about your family, Ann?" John asked, resting back in his chair, hand extended across the left side of the table.

Ann sighed. "My mother and father died when I was seventeen. They had been scuba diving in the Caribbean. They were given faulty oxygen tanks. What my family was given in the settlment paid for my college tuition."

She drained her glass before continuing. "I have a sister. I haven't had contact with her since she ran away when I was fifteen."

She shrugged. "Weren't you the one who was supposed to be answering questions?"

He drummed his fingers on the table. "You don't really wanna hear about my family." he said plainly, swirling the remains of his mug.

Ann leaned in, resting her head into her folded hands. "My ears aren't quite as large as yours, but they're listening."

Munch thought a moment before he decided to answer. "My father commited suicide."

Suddenly, a hand was squeezing his. Ann had grasped his hand in comfort. "I'm so sorry, Det-...John." she soothed.

John turned his hand so he was holding hers. For a moment, he let her trace circles with her thumb, much like he had the day before. "I...I can't imagine." she whispered.

"Hey, we can't change the past." Munch shrugged, taking another drink of his coffee "Sure, I regret the last thing I ever said to him being I hate your guts after a fight and pretty much blamed myself for the entire thing."

He could feel her grip tighten. She was at a lose for words and refusing to meet his eyes. He supposed he could have been more tactful in his approach to the answer, but straight forward sarcasm was more his speed. Still, he probably shouldn't have been so blunt...

And the next second, her had had disappeared at the sound of a throat clearing. Munch turned to see the scruffy sketch artist back in the doorway, coffe in hand and a doughnut between his lips. Ann quickly scooped the rest of her breakfast into her mouth and raised her napkin polietly while she chewed. "Did I interupt sommit?" the artist said through his doughnut.

"Yeah, now get that out of your mouth and come talk like civilized person." Munch snapped back casually.

The scowl was back on the mans face as he sat in between the polite young victim and the older snarky law man. Ann was placing her cleaned plate into a small bin underneath the cart and Munch was helping himself to his third cup of joe. The hired sketch man sighed and attempted to wolf down his doughnut.

Finally, the artist presented the finished sketch to Ann for approval. Depicted was a a young man, maybe 30 years old. He had shaggy hair just above the shoulders that framed a very squared jawline. His eyes were dark and cold, skin smooth and unmarked except for a long scar the ran through his thick eyebrow to the outer corner of his almound shapped eyes.

John watched a shiver overtake the young womens body. "That's him." she approved, handing the book back quickly "That's the man who did this to me."

The artist then turned the painting over to the detective. Munch looked for the first time at the womens assliante. No. Not the first time. "Son of a bitch." He hissed, standing abruptly.

He'd seen this man. The cocky downstairs neighbor who'd called her a nusiance. Mister suit, tie, and accounting job. His phone was out a speed dialing Detective Stabler. Ann and the artist both looked very confused, but Munch's back was turned as he held the reciver to his ear.

The low voice of his fellow squad mate answered "Stabler."

"Hey, El, remember mister stuck up account?" Munch spat angrily.

"The one who we have on tape with a solid alibi?" Stabler returned.

"Thats the guy."

"What about him?"

Munch turned, sketch in hand. "You wanna explain to me why our victim just gave our sketch artist the perfect render of his face?"

The phone line went silent. "I'll call Fin, I think its time we questioned the s.o.b., don't you?" John ground his teeth, pacing.

Stabler was still at a lose for words. Finally, he responded "I guess I'll go tell the captain."

Munch closed his phone and headed for the door. "Wait!" Ann called, reaching out "What's going on?"

John reluctently turned around. Ann looked at him fearfully. John sighed. "We may have him." he admitted.

He thought Ann would be realived. Instead, her face went stoney. She slowly started to get out of bed. Her feet met the floor and she stepped towards the chair where Munch's new coat lay. Picking it up, she strode to the detective.

John swallowed hard. She was gazing at him with fear and reluctence. She swung the coat around him, stepping in only inches from his chest. He was aware of her every movement. The slight twitch of her fingers, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed, the way her lashes fluttered as she looked upwards. A slight pang shot through the older mans heart.

"Be careful, John." she spoke softly "Don't let anyone get hurt on my account..."

His chest tightened. He told her they had him and she was worried for them? Just who was this extrodinary women?

Her hands fell away from his shoulders. Munch found his voice once more "Trust me, we can handle him."

He wasn't sure, but he thought he'd heard her whisper "I do trust you." before she turned and slipped back into her bed. Before he lost his absolute mind, John Munch turned and began to exit the room, cell in hand.

The sketch artist stood up hurridely "Hey what about me?!" he shouted after the sage detective.

"Unless you wanna watch me collar a rapist, I suggest you call a cab." Munch responded rudely, putting the ringing phone to his ear once more.

"Fire up the engines, Fin. We got a perp to nail."

_Holy crap my apologies that took awhile to get out. I lost insperation. Plus I had two conventions. But I'm back and reasy to write! Expect more soon!_

_-Sven_


	8. Tensions and Evasions

The unmarked gray, NYPD car whipped around the bend. "Aye, you tryin to kill us?" Detective Tutola exclaimed, righting himself after being jarred against his door.

Munch was driving far above legal speeds. How could he have let this guy slip right under his nose? How!? "Take it easy! We don't even know if it is the guy!" Fin hollered, disgruntled "He has an alibi and theres plenty of-"

"Can it, Fin!" Munch snapped, taking another sharp corner "I don't know how but he did this! And I'm gonna get him!"

Suddenly his foot hit the break followed by a string of muttered cursing. Fin had thrown his hands on the dash to catch himself. Once he had jerked back, he looked at his partner. He'd seen Munch passionate about a case, but this was a whole new side of him. He watched him grind his teeth, glaring at the red light impeding his progress, fingers drumming violently on the steering wheel. This victim had him wound up tighter then a herion addict two days sober.

Normally, his comments would be met with sarcastic remarks or witty banter, but he was focused, consumed. "Whats up with you man?" Fin asked, a mixture of concern and disappointment in his voice.

Munch ignored the question. Everything about this case drove his mind over the edge. This perp had slipped right under their noses, struting about like a pompus bit of particularly pungent dog crap. He'd managed to thwart the experinenced detective at every turn. Even when the victim had managed to rescue herself, when they had a crime scene full of evidence, when they'd interviewed the man himself. Thwarted. But not this time. This time, Munch had him.

The light changed to green. Munch stepped on the pedal. The car lurched forward, sending Fin backwards. They were close to the complex.

**226 Valence Gardens**  
><strong>Queens<strong>  
><strong>Thursday, April 16th, 4:00 PM<strong>

Munch was parked and out of the car in the same breathe. Fin barely caught up as the indignent investagator burst into the building. "Take it easy!" Fin hollered, reaching to slow his partner, but Munchs hand hit the desk of the landlord, search warrent in hand.

He was on the war path and Fin doubted god himself could bring the man down. "Is Mr. Havard still in his apartment?" he spat at the balding, portly man.

The man shrugged "I haven't seen anyone in or out today."

Munch scowled, and Fin stepped in, curbing his partners rage. "We need you to open his apartment for us. It's all in the warrent."

The pudgey gentleman eyed the detectives before turning his attention to the legal document. He skimmed it briefly while Munch paced, stewing in his own quagmire. Once he was satisfied the paper was legit, he reached for his keys. The jingle caused Munch to turn on his heel and head straight for the stairs. Fin rolled his eyes and followed.

Knock, Knock, knock.

"Mr. Havard. This is the NYPD. Open up. We have a warrant to search the premises."

A few seconds passed. No one answered. Not a sound was heard from inside. Munch knocked once more. "I won't ask you again." His voice was losing any calm it still had a grip on "Come out now."

Still, no one answered. The landlord stepped forward, fumbling with the keys. Fin could see the little patience his partner had left draining from the fingers clasped around his peace. "Sure, we've got time. Just play with your keys." he quipped, not hiding the anger in his breath.

The landlord grunted, finally fitting the correct key in the lock. The moment the door swung open, Munch whipped into the room. Fin was taken aback. Normally, he took point. Munch was a lot of talk and had a mean bite, but he was more of the brains and less of the brawn. He followed Munch, gun ready, entering the bedroom. He checked the closet, under the bed. "All clear." he called.

Instead of a return of the clear, a loud, distressed yell echoed through the small home. Fin flew into the living room to find his partner slumped on the ground, fists on the floor. Realization dawned on the Detective as he looked around the room. The space was completely empty, barren. He hadn't realized because he was securing the area.

The suspect had escaped.

Fin slowly re-holstered his gun, taking in the gravity of the situation. "So, what now?"

John didn't speak. For a moment, Tutuola thought Munch was going to yell again. But when he spoke, his voice was quiet. "I don't know."

He sounded defeated. Dejected. He finally had this guy cornered, minus the small case of the mans alibi. 14 cases almost closed, and they'd hit the proverbial brick wall. He knew Munch had had his share of tough cases, but this was consuming him. Fin could see it eating away at the already damaged soul of his distinguished partner.

The older man stood slowly, placing his peace back in its casing. His mind had blanked. Shut down. He started to walk for the door, but then he stopped. Fin followed his partner, watching his gaze turn towards the cabinets. Munch moved for them, opening them wide. He let out a loud groan, slamming one of the doors and storming out of the apartment.

Fin went to take a look for himself. Inside the abandon cabinets, there was a small blue colored box. The box had the simple text: Premier Grade Darjeeling Tea. Fin sighed, shutting the small doors. He exited the empty apartment, reaching for his radio. Maybe forensics could find something else the creep had managed to leave behind.

Back in the squad room, Fin was getting Stabler, Benson, and the captain up to speed. "When we got there, the place was wiped clean. Landlord said he must of high tailed it out in hurry, lease was up."

"Any idea where they could have gone?" Cragen questioned, crossing his arms and leaning against one of the desks.

"Nah, no known family, no previous address." Fin responded "The guy is a blank slate. I called the accounting office he worked for said they never hired a man named Seth Havard."

"Because it's a fake identity."

The detectives turned. Munch was still rooted to the spot he'd planted himself when they'd returned to the precinct. His eyes were glued to the board which depicted the timeline of the killers walk of fame. He hadn't even removed his coat and hat, his hands jammed in his pockets. "He changed his identity each and every time."

Benson stepped behind John, a pen in her hand. She crossed her arms, pushing the end of the pen to her lower lip. "Did we run the prints from all the crime scenes through codies?"

"Of course." Cragen responded "It tunred up no hits."

The telephone rang and Stabler answered. "I'll get the witness sketch circulating." Fin offered "See if we can catch any leads."

"Yeah, thanks." The telephone hit the reciever "That was forensics. They said they lifited a fresh set of prints of a tea box left in the cabinet."

"Doubt it'll be anything new." Benson commented as the crowd of detectives dispersed.

Munch sighed, reaching up to rub his eyes beneath his glasses. "John, you really should go try and get some sleep." Benson soothed "Cragen would let you, you know."

Munch shook his head. "I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to, Olivia." he admitted, giving her a half smile.

Olivia nodded, concern for her fellow detective showing vividly. "I'll go get you some coffee."

"Thanks Liv."

After several cups of coffee, Munch had gone back to look at the tapes and files again. He'd already been over every inch. Every detail. He could quote the witness testimony word for word. He spread each bit of the file on the already cluttered desk in front of him. He placed a copy of the artist sketch on top of the sizable pile. What was he missing?

Olivia entered the squad room again. It was late and she was getting her coat to leave. She noticed Munch stillsitting there. "This is really eating at you, isn't it?"

John leaned back in his chair. "I've worked as a Detective for more then 20 years." he began "I've seen homicide, rape, torture, child abuse...you could say I've seen it all. I can't look at a singular crime and tell you one is worse then the other."

Benson pulled her jacket on more slowly, listening to his pliate. "I've said it before, homicide...no live victims. It's not easier, but its more detached. No one sees what we see..."

She knew. She knew all too well. Women beaten, bruised and battered, men scared and destroyed, children left souless and unloved. And the people sick enough to take away their safety, their comfort, a little piece of their lives. I took everything she had to make it through each day with only the thought off getting one more sicko off the streets.

Eyes locked on the sketch, Munch took in every single detail. Benson also turned her attention towards the menacing face. Something had been bothering her. "When you and Elliot interviewed him the first time, you said he acted..."

"Like a pretensious insect." Munch offered, contempt in ever sylaball.

"Right." Benson responded "But when we went back, he was different. He was docile and nervous. Everything he said sounded almost practiced."

Munch's brow furrowed as she spoke. "And you said Ann insists he has a scar?"

"Yeah, I remember it, plain as day."

"Thats the thing." she reached for the picture "I remember his face and he didn't have a scar. The spitting image in this sketch but his face was smooth."

She could see John's brain working. "So what are you saying? Our perp has a..."

He froze. He stood up and spun around, grabbing Olivia's shoulders. "Olivia Benson you are a genius!"

Benson looked confused as her coworker grabbed his coat and the picture. "John I don't-"

As Munch flew out the door, he said only one word.

"Twins!"

_Its been awhile! I was having a bit of a block on how to portray some of the characters. But as I've been purchasing the seasons on DVD I've begun to understand the characters much better. So, I present the next chapter of Two for tea! Things are heating up for our determined detectives as they slowly get close to the perp!_

_Another chapter coming soon!_  
><em>~Sven<em>


	9. Sleepless in Manhattan

The revelation washed over Munch as he hurried down the hall to the forensics lab. The reason Seth Havard had been able to leave his apartment twice without ever reentering it, why he had acted differently during each witness interview, why he'd been able to pose as an accountant and kept repair tools from a janitorial job, why he had a solid alibi even when being identified unmistakably as a the doer. Twins. They were looking for not one man, but he and his identical twin.

It all made sense. They would have identical DNA and finger prints, one could be out and about on camera while the rapes and murders were taking place, it was the perfect setup. Finally, the break he needed. Now he just needed Warner to confirm it.

Speak of the devil. Warner was locking the door to the Forensic lab wrapped in her pea coat, back to the oncoming Detective. "Hold up, Doc!" Munch called, quickening his pace.

Warner looked over her shoulder and groaned. "What do you want?" she spat, turning and tieing a scarf around her neck.

Munch stopped in front of her, looking taken a back "What's with that attitude?" he questioned "You look like you just smelled a dead body."

"Oh ha ha." she mocked dryly "You're a real riot, John."

"Come on, whats up?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

Suddenly, there was a gloved finger in the large nosed mans face. "I've reexamined three bodies in the past 24 hours and ran about twenty-five separate prints and DNA samples for YOUR case and all I've been getting from you is impatience and attitude." she hissed "So yeah, I'm a little displeased to see you."

John looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Doc, I've just been stressed..."

"We all are." she shot back at him.

"I know..." John trailed off "This ones just gettin to me..."

And it was. He'd barely had an accumulated 8 hours of sleep over the past four days. Warner surveyed him for a moment before sighing and placing her hands on her hips. "What do you need, wise guy?"

Munch shot her a grin. "What are the odds in the DNA found at the crime scene being from three different people?"

"Three?" She asked, eyeing him "I only found two sets."

"What if I told you one set came from two people?" he tossed back.

"If you're going to insult me, you can turn right back around." She hissed, moving to stroll past him.

But she stopped dead in her tracks. Earlier, she had noticed a miniscule difference in the DNA from two different hairs. Every other point was a direct match so she had ignored it. But now..."What are you trying to say?"

"How possible is it that our perp had a twin brother?"

Hours after Warner had slammed open the door to her office and she, with Munch's assistance, had begun sifting through all the DNA testing done on the crime scene, morning light had crept into the precinct. Coffee mug in hand, John stared triumphantly, with half lidded eyes, at the fruits of his and the good doctors labor. He held, in his hands, a DNA comparison, proving, beyond reasonable doubt, that they were after twins.

His backside met the soft cushion of his chair. He released the paper on to his desk and leaned back, running his long fingers over his lined face. For the first time since that dreadful phone call to Cragen's office four days ago, he felt relieved. Finally, he'd cracked the case. He'd managed to find the missing piece in this insane, twisted puzzle. He closed his eyes, taking only a moment to rest.

Seconds later, he heard the doors to the squad room swing open. Elliot and Fin walked in, arguing hautly. "I told you, the kid's innocent. It's the father we should be looking at!" Stabler growled.

"And I told you to stop making all kids into victims." Fin threw back, shaking his head and heading for his desk.

The two were obviously disagreeing over a new case that had landed on Stablers lap yesterday. He'd likely asked Fin's opinion, a mistake since the two often had different views in victimology and profiling. "Trouble in paradise, ladies?" Munch quipped, looking towards them over the rim of his glasses "If you two get a divorce, I'll want the gift back."

Fin rolled his eyes "What gift? You're to cheap to buy anyone a wedding gift."

Munch snickered. "You seem to be in a better mood today, John." Stabler commented, already making himself busy with the coffee pot "Did the government finally admit the JFK assassination was a conspiracy?"

"Don't play with my hearts desires like that, Elliot." Munch squinted, pointing a finger at him  
>"It's not nice and you know it."<p>

Stabler chuckled and raised his hands in mock surrender. "But I did make a break in the Clome case."

"Get out of here." Fin responded to the smug looking gentleman "Did ya get the guy?"

"Not yet, but I'm one step closer." He answered.

He lifted the folder with the DNA files off his desk and tossed it it gently on to Fin's. "Read and weep, Fin my boy."

The well dressed detective scooped up the file and opened it. Stabler made his way over with two mugs of coffee. As the two skimmed the file, Munch leaned back in his chair, satisfied with himself. "What are we looking at here?" Stabler asked, confused.

But before Munch could answer, Olivia strolled in to the squad room. immediately upon seeing John in a self satisfied manner that had been out of his character for quite a few days now, called over "How'd the twin theory work out for you?"

Stabler's eyes went right back to the folder. "Wait, the perp has a twin."

Munch's smile widened to near Steven Tyler levels. "He does indeed."

Benson came around the desks to look at the documents, accepting the coffee mug Stabler offered her. "Well all be damned." She breathed, sipping from her mug.

She straightened up. "Have you gotten the sketches circulating?" She continued, Stabler and Fin still trying to make sense of the scientific garble.

"I'm waiting for Cabot now." He nodded, standing to pour himself another cup of joe.

Benson looked mildly impressed. She was happy to see John in better spirits. The past few days had really taken a toll on the older man. He'd been irritable and irrational, well, more so then usual. Sleep had evaded him heavily and, even though he obviously still had not managed shut eye, he seemed more alive and awake. She came around to lean next to him as he turned, full mug in hand and joined her. "Gotta say, John," Fin finally spoke, closing the folder and sliding it back on his partners desk "That's impressive."

Munch raised his mug towards Fin before taking a swig of sweet caffeine. As the morning chatter picked up, nights discussed, cases complained about, Munch, for once, didn't participate. He allowed himself just a small reprieve before he faced this case with renewed vigor. He was worn out, beat, tired. It took every bit of strength he had to keep himself up right against the ledge. "Ready to call it a day already, John?"

Munch opened an eye to leer at ADA Cabot as she sauntered up to the coffee maker, already holding a cardboard Starbucks cup. "The sun's only just come up, assistant district attorney." he shot back, taking in an exaggerated sniff of his coffee "And the java is fresh. Call it a day? Not on your job."

Cabot chuckled before laying one hand on her waist and leaning on the desk with the other. "So what do you have for me?"

"Not as much as you'd like but more then we thought." John responded, pulling out the two sketches "I need both of these circulated."

"Both?" Alex raised an eyebrow, taking the papers from him "This looks like the exact same sketch."

"Aye but look closer, dear Cabot." he began one of his routines "For things are not as they appear!"

Alex's eyebrow was in danger of disappearing into her hairline. "Twins. The perp has a twin."

She looked over the drawings again. "Twins? Guess that helps eliminate reasonable doubt."

After a soft sigh, Cabot shrugged. "Alright, John. They'll be all over by the evening news."

"You're a doll, Alex." He grinned, toasting her with his mug.

She waved away his gesture and headed for the door. "Next call I get from you better be for a warrant!" was her response as her figure sauntered out the door.

Duty called for the older detective. He had a full day ahead of him filled with search organization, manning the tip lines, phone calls...

That's right. Ann was supposed to be released from the hospital today. He'd listened to the message in the early hours of his third sleep deprived day. She'd called his cell and said that she was insisting on an early release so she could observe the movers who'd she'd called to set up her new apartment which she'd managed to some how procure with the furniture she purchased and over-nighted online. Must be good to have a private fortune.

He couldn't be bitter. She had gone through a terrible event and a new, well furnished home was a good way to help start over. Well, the PD cops weren't going to brief themselves. Munch drained the last of his coffee and set his mug back on his desk. He grabbed his files on the case, threw on his coat and hollered for Fin.

"Come on Fin! Let's nail these bastards!"

"This is a channel nine news breaking bulletin." came the professional voice of the news caster doing the nightly news "Our top story tonight, suspects identified in a string of murders being committed across the city of New York. After thirteen dead, the latest victim of the killers now being called "The Twin Terrors" miraculously survived. journalism student Ann-Marie Clome was brutally attacked in her home several nights ago."

"With strength anyone should admire, she managed to escape from her captors and make it to the police where she was able to identify the men who were responsible."

Two images flashed on to the screen. It was two identical sketches. "These are the artists renderings of the suspects. They are identical twins but one has a scar over his left eye. They masquerade as one man, usually pretending to be an accountant or a maintenance man. These men are very dangerous and should not be approached."

Munch clicked the off button on the remote. Finally, a small wave of relief flowed through him. For the first time since he'd taken this god forsaken case, he was able to get information to the public. The only information they'd with held was the connection to the oolong tea, because, well, you can't give everything away. Now that they had the eyes and ears of New York on their side, they might actually find this guy.

Stretching, Munch felt the sleep he'd been evading for so long start to seep into is his body. What a feeling it was to, after so many days of coffee induced zombie-like action, to finally accept exhaustion. He was sure he was going to be out like a light as soon as he hit his couch.

But, as life has a way of handing him wild cards just when he's about to fold a hand, as he had begun to dial the number for a local cab service, the phone on his desk let out a shrill ring. He sighed long and low. The contemplation of just letting the phone scream on into the night passed through his mind. reluctantly, he removed the phone from it's receiver. "Special Victims Unit." he answered, blocking a yawn.

"Detective Munch? Is that you?"

Munch's ears perked up. "Ann?"

"I...I'm sorry to call you so late...they just let me out of the hospital..." she sounded dejected.

"That's alright." he lied, rubbing the sleep from his dark bagged eyes "What can I do for you?"

The phone line was silent for a moment, almost as if she'd hung up. "Is there somewhere I can meet you?" she asked abruptly "I...I don't know who else I can talk to..."

There was a sharp breath. With the air that entered her lungs, Munch felt a pang somewhere in his chest. He thought for a moment. "There's a dinner three blocks from the precinct, open all night."

She was controlling her voice fairly well for someone choking back tears. "Thank you, Detective."

"I told you, call me John." he responded, trying to cheer her slightly.

"Right...I'll see you there..."

The line went dead. Munch dropped the phone on the receiver. She sounded awful and that worried him. Had the perp been sending her death threats? Was she ok?

I guess he'd find out. So much for hitting the sack...

_FINALLY. I'm so sorry it's taken ages to update! I've had quite the the bus months and awful writers block! But here it is, chapter 9! This is the kinda...in between chapter leading up to a big scene. So it's a little flat. but bare with me! I promise it pics up!_

_Thanks again for reading!_  
><em>~Sven<em>


	10. Here Comes The Rain Again

**Macy's Place**  
><strong>Fifty-First Street<strong>  
><strong>Saturday, April 18th 12:30 AM<strong>

The light jingling of the bell on the diner door announced the detective's arrival. Immediatly, a portly women wearing a dress made to resemble a 50's poodle skirt began to wipe her hands on her apron and smiled his way. "Haven't seen you here in awhile, sugar!" she called to Munch.

Munch came to the counter and took a seat. He made sure he could see the door from the spot he had choosen. He didn't look away as he took off his hat. The waitress pursed her lips at the lack of greeting. "What'll it be?" she asked flatly "The usual?"

Munch snapped his head towards her for a moment. "Yeah, sorry Janice." he apologized "Could you go ahead and make me a pot?"

Janice eyed him with concern as his gaze turned back to the entrance. "Waitin for someone, sweetheart?" She commented before calling his usual eggs and toast back to the cook.

Munch didn't turn away or acknowledge the poor waitress. The graying detective's brow was furrowed as he watched the door with anticapation. What could have caused Ann such distress? She was a strong women and she was aware of the incovience it would cause him to be out this late with his lack of shut eye, so, whatever was eatin' her, it wasn't good.

The soft clink of a coffee mug being set before him roused him from his determined stare. "Here, hun." Janice offered him the entire pot "On the house."

The smell of the fresh roast filled Munch's nosetrails, waking him slightly. He straightened up, grasping the procelian handle. "What's the occasion?" he questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

A quick snicker came from the sassy waitress' return "Because you look like hell."

Munch made a sputtering sound into his beverage. "Well, I never." he acted in an indignent manner.

But a grin spread across his face. "You sure you want to give _me_ free coffee? I did just get back from a coffe-holics anonymous meeting."

"I'll regret it later." she shrugged, her attention suddenly locked over Munch's shoulder "Welcome to Macy's! What'll it be, sweetheart?"

The clack of Munch's coffee mug was unheard over the sound of the door closing, causing the small bell to tinkle once more. "An iced tea, if you don't mind." Ann answered, unwrapping her scarf.

Her eye's met Munch's. He felt a tight squeezing sensation in his abdominals. Ann had obviously taken the time to care for her apperence before showing up. She'd seen a hairdresser as her tresses appeared longer now and covered her missing patches, extensions maybe? The marks on her face, although still visable, had been tamed with foundation and she'd accented her eyes in a light dusting of violet and gray a top long lashes. Her lips shimmered with a muted red sheen.

The soft click of her stilletoed heels audiable as she made to take the seat on Munch's right, further from the door. As she removed her pea-coat, John couldn't help but watch her figure. She slid into the seat, wearing sheer stockings, a fitted black pencil skirt, and silky loose dress shirt in a peach. She sat herself delicately, crossing her legs. A shiver shot through the detective and he felt compled to tear away his gaze. "Well, you seem to be adjusting." Munch commented casually, realizing a little too late how the words came off.

But Ann chuckled. "It was time for a change of pace anyway." She responded, turning her body in the spinning seat towards him and resting a head in her hand "The glamour of the Venice Garden Grunge just became far too much. Though, I will miss Mrs. Schmidt."

The shift made John glance her way. Shamefully, he cleared his throat, attempting to strike a new subject before he let the vision of the very beautiful women's clevage over take his mind. He also ignored Janice's mocking gaze. "So uh, where is it you moved to?"

Ann, luckily, seemed to be unaware of the detective's regertablly unclean thoughts. "About six blocks from the police station actually. It was, ironically, the only avalible place that I might still be able to attend school. A journalism degree doesn't get itself, unfortunatly."

Janice set a glass before her. "You want something to eat while Detective knuckle-head oogles ya?" she asked, sucessfully reddening Munch's ears.

Ann looked momentairly confused, still oblvious to the waitresses allusions. But she still responded with a light smile. "I think I've spent enough money today, but thank you." she politely declined.

Through grinding teeth and a glare in Janice's direction, Munch belayed Ann's response. "Give her the special."

Ann turned to object but Munch waved it away with his free hand. "I got you covered. It's the least I can do after your generous gift." he asserted, gesturing towards the coat he'd slipped off somewhere during his awkward staring competition with the door.

Ann pursed her lips in Munch's direction. "I didn't want you to pay me back you know..." she mumbled, taking a sip of her tea.

Munch grinned. "Neither did I."

The two sat in silence for a moment, the coffee almost drained from the investigators mug. Finally he spoke. "So, why did you call me?" Munch asked, leaning back in his chair "If you wanted a date, you could have just sent flowers. Much more striking. Would have made Stabler jealous."

Ann cracked a small smile, but it faded swiftly. A gleam of sadness crossed her eyes. She didn't answer the geniune question. Instead, she took another sip of her tea. She seemed like she was considering.

"Can't a young women call a gentleman in the dead of night for just a chat?" she questioned, changing her voice to sound mockingly innocent.

A sly grin strecthed across John's face. He knew she was avoiding the subject on purpose as this was often how he defered serious questions. But he'd play along. "Oh but, miss Clome." he feigned the voice of a southern women "People might think I'm a harlot meetin you so late at night! Grandpa must be rolling in his grave!"

A genuine laugh escaped Ann. For a moment, she lite up, the sadness that had drew itself on to her was erased. "I don't know who wrote your jokes, but I'd love his number!" she squeezed out between giggles "I have to get him for parties."

John considered for a moment. He then quickly jotted down his number and gave it to her. She stopped laughing and looked at it. "Works for him. Now you won't have to call him at the office for late night rendezous. He's great at Barmitzah's, not so much at weddings."

Ann turned visably scarlet. "Plus, I am still working on your case, so, if you need anything."

Munch wasn't actually sure why he hadn't made his private number avaliable to her in the first place. It makes staying in touch with victims much easier. Ann wasn't exactly a victim to him though. She was, but it wasn't the same. He refilled his coffe mug, unaware of the disturbance his sudden offering of his personal contact had caused inside Ann. She was now shuffling awkwardly through her purse, trying not to look up. "I'll uhm...remember that if I ever need a..."

She couldn't find the words. Through the entire back and forth, Janice stood, eyebrow raised, watching the awkard duo. It was almost physically painful to observe them. She could tell that John was only vaguely aware of his feelings, but the girl...Finally, Ann seemed to compose herself. "Thank you, John."

Munch's attention was back to his company. "I know you've hardly slept. That you've been running yourself ragged."

A hand waved her to stop. "Don't give me some teary eyed 'my hero' speech." he spat slightly "Solving rape cases is sort of my job."

She pursed her lips. "Besides, the coat was more then enough of a thank you." he admitted.

He really did like the coat. He'd worn it the past two days. It was warm in the crisp morning cold and, hell, it was stylish. But Munch was still not going to drop the original subject. "Now Ann, come on." he urged "Why did you really call me out so late?"

But before she could say anything, the gentle bell chime filled the resturant once more. Both the detective and his stunning companion looked up to see a young couple entering the diner. They seemed to have winced at the sound of the door. "Did he wake?" the young man whispered.

The women, who appeared to be cradling something in her arms, shook her head. "No." the young lady sighed "He's still out."

Munch realized there was a baby in the girls arms. He shrugged and turned back to Ann, ready to pressure her into answering, but when he faced her again she was still looking towards the young lovers. Tears had begun to roll down her cheeks. "Hey woah." Munch reacted, reaching an arm around her shoulders "Ann?"

She snapped her eyes away and looked at Munch. Her expression looked broken, defeated. "Ann, what's going on?"

She looked away again. For a moment, John kept a comforting hand on her shoulder, confusion and concern etched on the lines of his face. And then, all at once, she rose from the seat, grabbing her coat. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you."

She pulled herself away from the kind grip. "Ann?" Munch called as she made for the door "Ann, wait!"

But she was gone. John turned swiftly, digging in his pockets to pay the bill. "Chase another one away?" Janice teased.

Munch was not amused. He quickly threw a twenty out of his wallet and turned for the door. "Careful John! There's a storm coming!" Janice hollared, triggering a loud shoosh from the couple with the baby.

John managed to catch up to Ann at a cross walk. "Hold on!" he called, running after her.

Typically, he avoided overly streneous, unecessary physical activity. He wasn't even to be convinced into action when there were perps to be chased. He was more of the brains of the outfit. But he was jogging at a decent pace to get to Ann. She didn't even look over her shoulder. She did, however halt before stepping out into the crossing. A loud clap of thunder echoed around them as John slowed his step.

Now only a foot from her, he could see that she was shaking. Her hands grasped about her. "Ann, what is going on?"

"I'm sorry I called you for nothing." She pushed out between sobs "I won't keep you-"

But Munch had had enough. He grabbed her and spun her around to face him. "Don't give me that crap!" he hissed.

Her cheeks had become red and her eyes a little puffy. She looked John straight on. Rain drops began to fall, mixing with the tears on her face. "Now what the hell did you call me out here for, Ann?" Munch asked in exhasperation.

Ann let the sobs rack her body. She threw her arms around John's neck, taking him by surprise. "They had a baby, John!" she wailed, the rain begining to come down in sheets.

"So what?" he responded, catching her in his own arms "Tons of people have babies!"

"But I'll never be one of them." she cried into his shoulder.

And then, he understood. They'd finished all of her exams today. She would have gotten the results back for her her fertility as well. His arms squeezed around her, drawing her into him. It was all he could do. His hand slid up her neck and on to her head and he massaged, comfortingly. Ann could no longer speak, the only sounds she made were whimpers.

"Hey shh." Munch cooed "Hey, kids aren't that great anyway. They just yell and make noise, break stuff, leech your money. Honestly, they sound like my ex-wives."

He knew he had no tact, but his humor was all he could manage. For once, it wasn't met with her laughter. "I just...wanted...the option..." she sobbed.

He could feel her becoming weak kneed. He held her as tightly as he could. "They said..." she started, still shaking and whimpering "they said...it was unrelated but...I'm incapable...infertile...and even if...I was...The mental trauma would...likely cause enough...stress...for me to...miscarry..."

She choked up. All the detective could do was keep his arms around her. "As...as if my life wasn't bad enough." The sobs had weakened "I'm an outcast all through my school life because I was rich, I never had friends, my parents die, my sister runs away, I never even had a damn date because boys think I'm a tight ass."

She pulled away from Munch slightly, loosening the embrace. Rain was falling hard and bolts of lightning illuminated them periodically. "Then, just when I think my life is finally going okay, I get raped with a chair leg and don't even have the option to have a family if I ever happened to meet someone who could stand me for more then five minutes."

The tears she cried now were fueled by rage and frustration. She may have been born into privelege but she had by no means lead a charmed life. And now, two sick bastards had stolen the little bit of life she still had. "As if I wasn't undesirable before, now I'm an infertile freak..."

What did she mean "undesirable?" Munch would have been hard pressed to find a more attractive women, even with all the bruises and scrapes. Besides that, she was witty, and charming, and, especially considering her circumstances, strong. Now, at least, she seemed to be breathing more evenly. "I just...I needed to tell someone." she said aburptly "That's why I called you. I don't really have anyone else to talk to."

A smile broke out on Munch's face. "Well if I'm all you got, you're in deep shit."

It took a moment, but the corner of Ann's mouth twitched. And then she was laughing again. Her laugh infected John and then they both were howling. They looked like maniacs. Heads thrown back, cackling in the rain. When the two stopped, she looked at him for a moment, contemplating. She hugged him tightly again, seeming to decide, resting her head on his chest. "If I can think of one good thing from all of this, It was meeting you, Detective."

He gave her a squeeze. "It's good to find silver linings, though, I'm more of a bronze."

She chuckled, breaking apart from him again. They were both soaked now and the rain was coming down in sheets. Munch was sure if they remained out here for much longer they would both be suffering come day light. "You wanna head back to the diner and finish your meal?" he asked pulling his jacket collar up over his ears.

She shoke her head. "Actually, if I could ask one more thing of you, would you mind escorting me home?" She questioned.

Munch sighed. "I suppose I'm already here, aren't I?"

She grinned. Munch put an arm around her shoulders and they stepped out into the street to wave down a cab.

**The Comfort Glades**  
><strong>1313 Jefferson Way<strong>  
><strong>Saturday, Apirl 18th 2:14 AM<strong>

After a short ride in a particularly pungent taxi, the two had arrived safely at Ann's complex. It was much nicer then her previous living space. Munch hadn't wanted to impose on Ann's company any longer but she insisted he should at least see her new place and get a cup of joe for the ride home. After a moment with her key's, she invited the older gentleman into her new home.

The inside was much more spacious then her last. It was only furnished with the necessary pieces and, so far, was not made very personal. "I'm sorry, it's not very home like yet!" She apologized from the kitchen "I only just finished setting up before I called you!"

"Still looks nicer then my place." he responded "At least its clean."

She popped her head out of the kitchen. "Go ahead and have a seat. I'll just be a minute."

John furrowed his brow. Having a seat implied staying for more then five minutes. The couch was also brand new and he was soaking wet. Gingerly, he removed his coat and hung it over the spot of hard wood near the door and slipped off his shoes before setting foot on the carpeted floor. He supposed, at least, the couch was black leather, so he wouldn't make too much of a mess. He seated himself nearest to the door. A quick cup of coffee and then he'd be off.

But the moment he hit the couch, all the exhaustion, all the sleepless nights, all the long days caught up with him. It took every ounce of energy he had just to keep his eyelids open, and his energy was fading fast. He began to nod off. He didn't even respond when Ann asked him if he wanted anything to eat since he'd missed his meal at the diner.

Concerned when he didn't respond, Ann stepped out into the living room. The detective had passed out cold. She could hear the gentle snore that had already begun to rise from his throat. Ann leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. She was smiling to herself as she simply watched the man sleep.

She had no intention of waking him at all. After all, it was her fault he hadn't gone straight home to bed and her fault he hadn't slept in the first place. She knew there was nothing she could ever do to repay this man for how much dedication he'd put into her case. But she planned to try to at least show how grateful she was.

Deep down, Ann knew it wasn't that simple. She knew she wasn't just thankful that a detective had rescued her, but that Detective Munch had resued her. She tried to convince herself that she just had a bad case of Florence Nightingale syndrome and that he was only there because of his concern for her case, but it wasn't working. Maybe if he hadn't been so smart, or if he wasn't so funny. It certainly didn't help that he was handsome, well, to her standards anyway. She knew he didn't have to come see her tonight, that he could have said no. This wasn't part of his job description.

She was sure he was just that kind of a man. And that was the exact problem. Here was not a boy, but a man who wanted to spend more then five minutes with her and here she was, falling.

She was falling in love with Detective John Munch and there was nothing any one could do to stop it.

_ANNNND here we get to the juicy stuff. Here on in, we're gonna start wrapping up the case so thats something to look forward to! Enjoy this incredible cheesy scene and get ready to hear how this case concludes!_

_~Sven_


	11. Chinese Trick

**The Comfort Glades  
>1313 Jefferson Way<strong>

**Saturday, April 18th 12:15 PM**

The soft chirping of birds was what finally roused the old detective from his slumber. It was a moment still before he opened his eyes, letting his stiff body stay sunken into the soft leather cushions beneath him. As his eyes finally cracked, open he took in his surroundings, the dysphoria from waking in an unfamiliar place dispersing. The events of last night flooded back into his mind. He now recalled that he had walked Miss Clome back to her apartment and graciously accepted an invitation to come in and enjoy coffee before rudely passing out cold on her couch.

Then reality washed over him. He snapped up, cracking his neck a bit. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out his cellular device to check the time. Yikes. The little digital screen read 12:15 meaning Munch was far beyond late. The scramble to gather his things began but, before he could make for the door, he noticed a note addressed to him sitting atop the coffee table. He scooped it up, unfolding it. It read:

_Dear John,_

_I hope you slept well! I know you've been overworked so I didn't bother to wake you. Don't worry, I called your captain and he said you needed a day off anyway. So use it to rest up! _

_You are welcome to stay as long as you like but I'm sure you'll leave shortly after reading this. At least make yourself a cup of coffee before you hit the road, its the least I can do after you rushed to my aid last night. My hero. _

_Yours truly,_

_Ann_

Munch's lips twitched into a slight smile. The sarcasm was palpable even in such a short note. She was right. He didn't plan on staying very long at all, but he supposed he would actually take the day off. He had earned at least that.

After helping himself to a cup of very fine coffee and yanking his coat on, the detective had stepped out into the street in front of Ann's complex to flag down a cabbie. He had resigned himself to stopping at the take out joint near his own apartment and going over the case file in the privacy of his squashy, sunken couch. As he pictured the beaten old thing, he suddenly missed the leather cushions he'd left behind.

Arriving twenty minutes later, Munch jumped out of the cab, shoving an extra five into the eager driver's hand. Shaking his head, he entered the small restaurant with big red letter's reading Sun Young Fine Cuisine. Fine cuisine his ass. The small bell chimed and he was immediately greeted by the loud "Ni Hao!" of the staff. Munch nodded before stepping up to the register to place his order of egg rolls, rice, and lo mein noodles. The kind chinese elder behind the counter called the order to his cooks before disappearing into the kitchen himself. Once he was out of site, Munch turned and leaned on the counter.

The old detective looked into his coffee cup, an inner struggle beginning to flare up in his brilliant mind. Last night had been a strange and mind-numbing experience, and yet, Munch would have done it again. The sweet ring of Ann's laughter still echoed in his ears, her smile haunting his thoughts, the scent of rain in her hair...Oh yeah, he'd fallen for her. He had been smitten the moment she walked into the dinner that night, as much as he would deny it. Actually, he'd probably been screwed since that second visit to the hospital. The way she spoke, the grace and strength of her presence, the wit and sharpness of her tongue. It helped she was also quite easy on the eyes. Of course, he got a high profile case, managed to save a victim, and went and knocked himself head over heels.

It's not like these cases were easy to begin with and now he was dealing with stifling these god damned feelings. But, lucky for Munch, he was a cynic. Four ex-wives made it hard for him to believe he could really find a good women, even if one was right in front of his very prominent nose. He was already telling himself that she'd be gone as soon as this case closed, that he was merely the detective on her case, a passing man in her life, just a goofy old man. She was too young, too pretty, too smart to end up with an aged, strange, sarcastic bastard like him. No, she needed someone bright and happy and her age to combat all the garbage she'd had dumped into her life. He said to himself, he said.

He raised his cup to his lips and gazed out the front windows of the establishment. People walking back and forth, not a care in the world beyond needing to head to the grocery for dog food later and "will I get that promotion?" The daily hustle and bustle of the New York streets. How the old cop envied the ability to channel out what was going on around him.

As Munch took in a particularly large mouth full of hot caffeinated liquid, his eyes focused on one of the passers by. The gentleman stopped to admire his own reflection in the windows of the chinese take out joint. Projectile beverage sprayed from Munch's mouth. The dirty blond scruff, the square jaw, the scar above his eye. There he was right in front of his face. The doer he'd been chasing for a month. Before Munch had a chance to react, the perp seemed satisfied with his appearance and continued on his way down the street.

Once the detective had regained himself, he was out the door, ignoring the hot liquid now sinking into his new jacket. He still had sight of the bobbing blond locks several yards ahead of him. He began pushing through the crowd, not wanting to spook his target, muttering "excuse me's" to everyone he bumped into. The man came to a crosswalk that stopped him from advancing. This was John's chance! He began pushing through the crowd yelling "Move!"

His target looked around behind him, locking eyes with his pursuer. A sly grin spread across his face. He recognized the Detective from the one encountered that had. He'd been made. Munch gritted his teeth in frustration, ten yards still between him and his catch. "Halt! Police!" he called, raising his badge to successfully part the sea of people.

As soon as the words left his lips, the man ducked and tore off down a side street. Munch's Armani shoes hit the pavement, breaking into a dash. It bares repeating that Munch is not the footmen of the 16th precinct outfit. He'd rather be giving orders then doing the grunt work but this wasn't the time to be lazy. He dodged in between a few unlucky street walkers, weaving deftly between briefcase-toting businessmen and women with cells glued to their ears. He was surprisingly nimble for a man of nearly fifty. Much more so than his unlucky target, so it would seem, as they were only about nine feet apart now.

Just when Munch lunged to make the grab, the man took a sudden sharp turn down an alley. The detective skidded forward, tripping before he could stop his momentum. He spun around and ran back, turning down the alley. It was too late. He must have slipped down another street. A loud yell of anguish and the sound of a metal trash can slamming into the side of a building reverberated through the alley. Again! He'd slipped right through his fingers again! He was right there, he had him!

Munch slammed a fist into the bricks, scrapping his knuckles. His breathing was harsh and uneven from the physical exertion. Leaning his head against the wall, he slide his cell from his pocket and hit the second speed dial. A few rings later and the gruff voice of his partner answered.

"Aren't you supposed to be takin a day off?"

"I had him…" Munch breathed, his voice barely away from a hiss "He was right here, Fin."

"Woah, woah, woah." Fins voice became noticeably tense "What do you mean 'you had him?'"

"I chased him halfway through the Eastside." Munch said in exasperation "Lost him…"

"Wait are you sayin' you saw the perp?" Fin questioned, shock in his voice.

Munch groaned. "No, I am out of breathe because I was out having a good time with the gals. Christ, Fin, work with me please."

There was silence on the line. Maybe he was being harsh, but he was frustrated beyond imagination. This bastard slipped away for the third time, literally threw his fingers now. "Sorry Fin. I'm just pissed."

"Just go home and get some rest, man." Fin gave a concerned command.

"Like I could rest now." he straightened up "I'll be in the office in an hour. Keep the coffee warm."

"You know Cragen ain't gonna like that." Fin objected.

Munch made a "tch" noise. "Tell Cragen to run a mile and then come back and talk to me."

He hung up his phone with an exaggerated motion of his arm. No, rest was far from the old gentleman's mind. As he waved down a cab, he finally removed his pungent smelling jacket. He'd drop it off at the dry cleaners, head by his home, clean up, and get back into the office post haste. He now had a central location and it was time for him to organize a manhunt. You know what they say: "Ain't no rest for the wicked"

He'd make sure the perp didn't sleep either.

_HEY-O sorry to my few readers for the wait! I had a busy summer and just started school for my criminal justice degree so I have been BUSY. But I haven't forgotten about my favorite story! Expect a new chapter soon!_

_~Svendal Munch_


	12. Fancy Meeting You Here

Sitting hunched at his desk and clacking away at his keyboard, a throbbing vein was growing in Detective Munch's temple. Instead of helping him, Odafin Tutuola, Elliot Stabler, and Olivia Benson leaned against the desk near by, each with a different expression. Stabler's face appeared a mixture of amusement and mild disappointment. Benson, the ever gentle, seemed concerned and slightly fearful. But Fin…

"A'ight, I'll say it." he started, looking like someone had just given him a brand new sports car for christmas "I never thought Munch was gonna be the one to break the 'don't mess around with a victim' rule."

Munch's gaze snapped to his partner, eyes narrowed. "I'm just sayin man!" he chuckled.

"I'm a little disappointed in you, Munch." Stabler sighed.

"It's like I'm talking to a group of mentally deficient children." Munch growled, his eyes back to the screen "I did not_ intend_ to go to Miss Clome's home nor did I do _anything _inappropriate. I simply walked her home, accepted an invitation for coffee, and happened to fall asleep rudely on the couch, since, you know, I've been exhausted from actually doing _my job _which I would like to continue doing."

The three detectives all looked at each other. Fin raised his arms, a grin still plastered on his face "I get it man, what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom."

"If he says nothing happened, nothing happened Fin." Stabler scolded, but his tone wasn't convincing.

Benson eyed them both, but also still looked a little fearful. Munch had walked in two hours ago after he had a run in with one of the perps. Unable to apprehend him, he was now furiously making lists of apartments in the area with new tenants or staff, trying to create a grid of search. Cragen hadn't been happy to see Munch in the office, but the fact that he'd sighted the suspect meant that they had new information and John _was_ the primary.

However, Cragen had received an interesting telephone call that morning. The only living victim in the "Twin Terrors" case (Miss Ann-Marie Clome) had phoned the Captain to explain that one of his detectives was passed out on her couch. She assured him he had just been doing his job and she just hadn't wanted to wake him. Cragen had asked that Ann keep the situation to herself as he didn't want the higher ups getting the wrong idea. When he returned to the office, Cragen confronted him and "gently" reminded him that sleepovers with victims were frowned upon by internal affairs. Munch was more than displeased with this public chastising as Fin had been less then three feet away and now acted as if he'd been given a very expensive present.

"What do you need from us, John?" Benson asked the ever vexed elder.

Munch sighed. "Anything. Everything." He answered, leaning back and rubbing his face in a dramatic fashion "I need a miracle."

"How about something we can achieve." Fin threw in, crossing his arms.

Munch considered. "I need all of this information made into a grid." he started as he hit the print button "I need someone to get this circulating. I need someone to bring me a better cup of joe."

He shoved the cold instant coffee away from him with a mild look of disgust. "Okay, we'll take care of this." Benson encouraged, retrieving the documents from the printer "You go stretch your legs and do a starbucks run."

Munch sighed. He supposed clearing his head and letting the peons do some of the grunt work would be ok. He stood up and reached for his coat "Keep an eye on those two." Munch said to Olivia, squinting at the younger gentlemen.

She nodded and gave him a smile "Nothing I can't handle."

Starbucks Coffee

"So that'll be one Mocha Latte, a Caramel Macchiato, a triple shot expresso, and a venti black coffee?"

Munch nodded as the barista read back the order. He didn't even pay mind to the total, handing her a twenty. His mind was running a thousand miles a second and there was nothing he could do to slow it down. He moved aside to allow the next eager coffee addict to places his order.

As he looked around at the filled Starbucks, his eyes darted from face to face. Was the parasyte he was chasing here to? How long was this going to torment him? His eyes gazed at the teenagers sitting with their fancy coffees and huge glasses. They only cared about their term papers and film projects, or what environmental protest they'd be blogging about. He couldn't help but consider his own youth, something he did often, although typically bitterly so.

As his eyes traveled the room, he found a familiar face. His heart thumped heavily in a way that felt as if it had slammed itself into his rib cage. Hair tamed back with a slouching hat that sat at the back of her head, make-up done naturally, clothes consisting of tight leggings, high heeled boots, and a long loose shirt lacking in sleeves, Ann was perched on a high stool, her eyes scanning the laptop screen before her. She was engrossed so deeply in whatever it was she was reading that her eyebrows were furrowed, concentration in every line of her face.

Munch swallowed hard. She hadn't been kidding when she said she lived by the precinct. He probably would have realized if he'd come from her home to his office. He supposed the University was close by as well. He'd done a seminar there once for the criminal justice program. She was likely working on something for one of her journalism classes. Of course, Munch was just going to stand there like an absolute creep, gaping at her rather than greet her, since, you know, he didn't want to bother her. Besides, he was technically on the clock.

He continued to watch her as she sighed and shook her head, closing the laptop. She reached for the beverage that seemed to be an iced tea. Just as she was about to take a sip, Munch was jarred from his mildly sketchy observing by the barista. "Order for Munch?" she called loudly, listing his drinks once more.

Turning red in the ears, he whipped around and scooped up the drink carrier. But before he could make for the door, he heard his name.

"John!" Ann called, having heard the detective's name called.

Munch composed himself before feigning innocence, looking around before pretending to spot her. "What, you stalking me now?" he joked as she waved him to the table.

She gave him a faked look of disapproval before beckoning him to sit. "I can't." He shrugged, gesturing with the to-go drinks in his hand "I'm on duty."

"I thought your captain gave you the day off?" she furrowed her eyebrows in concern.

"Oh he did." John admitted "But considering the same phone call that got me a day off also almost got me a trip to internal affairs…"

He looked over his glasses and raised an eyebrow in fake scolding. But Ann flushed. "Oh my god, John, I am so sorry!" She began apologizing "I...I didn't think how that would look to your Captain! Oh jesus."

Munch looked taken aback. He supposed he'd expected her to just throw something back at him about how it was his own fault for passing out there. "Hey, woah, take it easy!" Munch raised a hand, motioning for her to calm down "I was half joking!"

Ann still seemed quite flustered. "He made a joke about it and now Fin's up my ass, but that's standard around the office anyway. No harm, no fowl."

She started to simmer down. "Well, I still apologize." she breathed, sipping her tea "It probably was inappropriate of me not to wake you up. I just felt guilty since it was my fault you were so exhausted in the first place."

Munch shook his head. "It's the perps fault not yours."

Suddenly, Munch remembered the happenings of earlier today. The take-out joint where he'd spotted the doer hadn't been far from Ann's new place. Coincidence? "Hey Ann, since I ran into you…"

Ann looked up at the detective in interest. He set his coffee down for a moment, sitting so he wasn't over heard as easily. "Just...uh...do me a favor and try not to leave your apartment too much, alright?"

The brunette eyed him with curiosity and suspicion. "Why?"

Munch sighed. "Don't freak out...but…"

Before he could finish, Ann's mouth formed a straight line. "I see." she commented, reaching calmly for her tea. She raised the straw to her lips and took a quick sip, her gaze trailing towards the wall opposite her. She cleared her throat. "Where?"

But before he could tell her, someone called across the room. "Ann!"

Munch looked round to see a small, very ginger girl waving from the entrance of the coffee shop. Ann waved back, suddenly seeming perky. The girl rushed towards them. "Sorry I'm late! Professor Stevens would not let us leave until he finished that booooring language lecture!"

Up close, Munch noticed small freckles dotted her round nose. She had very bright eyes and a large smile since her teeth seemed to be very slightly bigger than the average persons. She was looking eagerly between Ann and Munch. "It's alright, Sylvia!" Ann replied with a grin "I wasn't waiting long!"

The girl, whose name was apparently Sylvia, Had seated herself and was still glancing back and forth between himself and Ann. "Sooooo…." she began "Who's your friend?"

"I was going to ask the same question." Munch stated, leaning quizzically against his closed fist "Last I heard, you didn't have any of those."

His eyebrow shot up to his forehead as he fought a teasing smile. Ann pushed John's arm playfully "Oh shut up you." She giggled and the detective could have sworn his heart hit his chest so hard he flinched "This is Sylvia. I just transfered into her writing class. We met this morning. She's….very friendly…"

Sylvia nodded "Ann seemed really shy! I just wanted to make her feel welcome and then I saw her shoes and I just freaked out they were soooo cute!"

Munch could feel his interest in the conversation fading fast. The last thing he cared about was women's fashion. "So is this your dad?" Sylvia asked, staring curiously.

Munch nearly spit the coffee he'd taken a drink of. Ann looked at Munch trying to resist a laugh but she just couldn't. The sweet sound of her ringing mirth filled Munch's ears. Again, he thought for sure that thud was audible. When she was able control herself, Ann breathed "No, no. This is Detective Munch. He's..."

Ann paused, her gaze suddenly locking Munch's. Another slam. She seemed to gasp softly. Was that blush? "He's a friend." she finished, her eyes still staring into his.

Munch couldn't look away. He was entranced. Never had she looked at him with such a piercing stare. It was like she was reaching into his soul, trying desperately to convey something she could not say with words. God, she was beautiful. After what felt like a lifetime lost in her eyes, the sound of a throat clearing jolted the detective from his hypnosis. Ann shook her head. "He uh…I'm interviewing him for a project!" She recovered quickly.

"Ooooh thats interesting!" Sylvia exclaimed, sounding honestly intrigued "I bet that's got to be a hard job! Solving crimes and stuff! I couldn't imagine it. I mean my boyfriends in the criminal justice program but I-"

Amidst the enthusiastic girls wild chatter, Munch realized why he had come to the coffee shop in the first place. "Sorry to cut in" he lied, interrupting Sylvia's long and mind numbing tale "But I have a group of very coffee starved addicts in need of their mid afternoon fix."

He stood up and scooped the drink carrier off the table. Ann stood as well but then seemed embarrassed by the action. "Er...it was good to see you again, Joh-um Detective."

"Sure." John replied smoothly "You just call me when you're ready for that interview."

Just because he was feeling a little saucy, he winked at her. She eyed him suspiciously. "Yeah, keep that up and I'll go in a different direction."

Munched faked a shot to the heart, doing his best to look hurt. "What on earth could be more interesting than me?" he teased, pretending to sound upset.

"Oh, I don't know. An accountant, a banker, an actuary, a real estate agent…" she listed off as many boring jobs she could think of "I'll think of someone."

She smiled at him smugly. "You'll regret that one, Miss Clome." he scolded, shaking his head.

But he smiled. "Remember to stay away from 5th street."

He had never answered her original question due to the chatterboxes untimely arrival. Ann nodded. "Right. I heard traffic over their is particularly awful." she added, playing along.

Munch smiled and gave a small wave. "Nice meeting you." He gestured toward Sylvia, who waved back. 

"Yes you two! Don't be a stranger!" She replied, her hand still swinging back and forth in farewell.

Munch looked one last time to Ann before he turned to walk out the door, but he ran into someone causing him to drop his coffee. "Hey, watch where-" he began to say but froze.

The man he had collided with was looking up at him in fear. The blond scruffy man who had haunted his nightmares and waking moments for days. It was the perp! Well, one of them.

Before Munch could grab his cuffs, the perp bolted for the door. "STOP!" Munch yelled, reaching for his peace "POLICE!"

Luckily, this time, the man tripped, falling out into the street. Munch moved forward quickly, forgetting everything that had happened before this moment. As the perp tried to scramble to his feet and down the sidewalk, John grabbed him by the shirt collar, lifting him. He slammed him hard, face down, into the pavement. "Well, well." Munch muttered into the struggling man's ear, his elbow forcing into his back "Looks like you just couldn't stay away."

"P-please!" The man sputtered "It...it's not what you think!"

Munch's elbow dug deeper between the man's shoulder blades and he groaned. "Bullshit! I know exactly why you're here."

Pushing himself against the still fighting man, he withdrew his hand cuffs. Yanking his arms behind his back, the detective slapped each cuff around his wrists. "You're under arrest for the rape and assault of Ann Marie Clome and the murder of Natsha Beckett." He said loudly and firmly, forcing the man out the door and reaching for his cell phone "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney one will be provided for you."

His finger hit the first speed dial and he lifted the cell to his ear. It only took a few seconds for Finn to answer. "Whats up? You finally go so senile you can't find the coffee shop?"

"Send a car over to the starbucks." Munch breathed, ignoring the snarky comment "I caught him."

_Ahahaha wow I am so good at updating….Sorry if this seemed abrupt, I'm having some issues getting the story to point B so I figured I'd move it along! This should be just the kick I needed! I'll try to be a little more prompt with the next chapter...12 already dang…_

_~Sven_


	13. Feeling Interrogated

The soft click of men's dress shoes echoed in the small hallway outside of the interrogation room. Detective Munch was pacing, his hand to his chin in thought. His fellow investigators, ADA Cabot, Doctor Huang and his captain all gathered near by. He had finally done it. He had managed to capture one of the twins from his case.

The bastard was there. Sitting in the room beyond the two way mirror. He seemed fearful and was ringing his hands. Munch hadn't gone in just yet. He was contemplating just how to work this guy over. Yes, this was a major success, but he needed this pig to squeal if he was going to lock up the real doer. Clearly, this guy was only a cog in his twins bigger scheme.

"You ready, John?" Cragen urged him, time growing thin.

Munch stopped passing and crossed his arms, eyebrow furrowed. "We can't hold him without questioning him for much longer." Cragen pointed out.

John waved his hand, shooing away the notion. But he took a deep breath. He was ready. Without a word, Munch turned and pushed open the door to the interrogation room. As he entered, the disheveled man shuddered and turned his fearful to Munch. The Detective shut the door gently behind him. He didn't say a word.

The perp stared at him, so calm and collected as he pulled out the opposite chair and sat. He placed a file directly in front of him, but he did not open it. His eyes rose and met the stare of the blond man's piercing blue gaze. After a few moments, the man shifted, the silence making him uncomfortable. Munch was waiting.

Neither man spoke for nearly three minutes. With every second that ticked by, the perp showed more and more signs of his discomfort. Sweat was glistening on his unscared brow, his fingers had begun drumming swiftly on the table, he was swallowing harder and harder with each sharp breath.

Finally, as they approached the end of the fourth minute, the perp broke eye contact. Munch grinned. He had chosen the right tactic. Now he spoke. "Well, Mister...Havard, is it?" John started, his tone very business like "My name's…"

"Detective John Munch." the perp finished quickly.

John raised an eyebrow in fake surprise. "Interesting that you would know my name." He commented, his usual sarcasm surfacing "We've not had the pleasure of meeting till now."

The perp shook his head "We met the night that girl was-"

"No, I believe that was your brother whom I spoke with."

The man looked at John again, terror in his eyes. Munch grinned slyly. "Then...then you know…"

"Oh, we know everything." Munch lied.

Of course, they didn't. But they were certainly about to. The man sighed, defeat in every line of his face. "I'm sorry...I should have come to you sooner…"

Munch looked taken aback. "Not sure I understand what you mean." He commented, curiosity creeping into his voice.

The man reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "To turn myself in."

Now Munch wasn't sure what to do. "Is that why you were at the coffee shop?"

The man shook his head again. "No, I was there to help my brother kidnap that girl again."

Was this guy stupid? "And why on earth would you admit that?"

Was he mocking him? The man continued to scratch his neck. "Because I'm sick of all of it."

He dropped his arms and leaned back in the chair. It was plain to see this was not the man who had done all the sick things to Ann. "At least if I'm locked up, I can get away from it all."

John remained composed. He wasn't going to drop the act until he got the story. He hated that he wasn't beating the ever living shit out of this man. Maybe he hadn't done the act itself but he sure had helped. Contrary to the thoughts in his head, Munch remained business like. "We'd like to hear your side of the story." he interjected, opening the file and looking down into it "Starting with your real name. If you coporate, we can offer you some kind of deal."

"I don't want a deal."

Munch glanced up at the man. "And why's that?"

The man seemed suddenly more confident. "Because I deserve the same punishment Ivan does."

Ivan. That was the bastards name. It took every ounce of control Munch possessed not to hiss the next sentence. "Your brother?"

The man nodded. Munch closed the file back and folded his hands. "I'll tell you everything." the man agreed "I know it won't change what's happened, but maybe I can finally wipe away some of this guilt…"

This was more than Munch could have hoped for. "Just to be clear, you don't want a lawyer present?"

The man nodded. "I'm not looking to avoid jail time." He responded "Any prison is better than the hell I live in."

Munch eyed him for a moment before he withdrew a tape recorder from his pocket. He placed it squarely on the table. "I'm going to tape your confession." He stated simply.

Again, the man nodded. Munch reached across the table and gently hit the record button. His eyes met the perps again. "State your name for the record."

The man took a deep breath. "My name is Earl Kessler. I am going to confess a crime"

"Ann can you _please_ just tell me what's going on?"

Ann bit the tip of her thumb, her leg bouncing with impatience as she sat outside the precinct doors. What she had witnessed was...well she wasn't sure what to make of it. One moment she was laughing at John Munch's jokes, the next, he was outside, knee in the back of one of the men responsible for the heinous crimes committed against her.

She hadn't gotten up from her seat like the rest of the crowded Starbucks. The site of the valiant detective collaring one of her assailants had been both frightening and...well mostly frightening. She had felt her heart hit the floor when his strong voice had yelled for someone to stop. She had realized he was there, stalking her, and that, had John not been there, she would be in a bad place all over again. Her very presence had endangered him and her new very impatient friend.

"I'm not going anywhere so you might as well tell me!"

Ann sighed. "It's...a really long story, Sylvia…"

The ginger girl shrugged, kicking her feet like a child. "It's not like I have anywhere to be!" she chuckled "Besides, all good friendships are based on truth and since you _obviously _are not telling it, I will badger you until you do because I want us to be good friends!"

Ann blinked at her a little confused. "This is the first day we've met and we're sitting in the Special Victims Unit precinct and you still wanna be friends with me?"

Sylvia looked around curiously. "Is that the one we're at? Wasn't sure if it was homicide or not. Kyle, my boyfriend, took me to one once...might have be narcotics. Don't know!"

She was smiling back at Ann "Besides! This is the most interesting day I've had in a long time! Did you see your friend practically tackle that guy?! It was amazing!"

Ann didn't know what to say. "I..I guess it was." she admitted, fighting back a red blush.

She may not have gotten up, but seeing the object of her desire take down a criminal was certainly...well it was something alright. If only his shirt hadn't been...there. She could feel the ginger chatterboxes gaze boring into her and she cleared her throat, pushing the very dirty image from her mind. "Buuuuuuut you didn't tell me the truth yet!" Sylvia pointed out much to Ann's chagrin.

Ann sighed. "I uh...I'm helping with a case."

Sylvia raised a flaming brow. "Ann I don't mind spending the day sitting in a police station but it makes it more fun when I know why I'm here!"

Another sigh. "Alright, alright!" Ann caved.

It was only fair. She supposed her name had been all over the news anyway, not like it was a secret. "The man that Detective Munch arrested is a uh...suspect in…"

Sylvia looked to be on the edge of her seat. Ann rolled her eyes and blurted "In my rape case, alright?"

Sylvia gasped but kept her next words in. She looked briefly as if she was concentrating very hard on what to say. She sat back. Ann had never really seen anyone react like this. She was used to pity. Apologies, half hearted kindness, all the bullshit that comes with having tragedy strike. Boy was she used to tragedy.

After a moment, Sylvia seemed to brighten. "So, Detective Munch is the one on your case then?"

Again, Ann was at a loss for words. "I'll tell you I'm a rape victim and you ask about John?" she said, but she started to laugh.

Sylvia shrugged. "After you said so, I remembered seeing it on the news! Plus, there's no point to asking you stuff about it. I don't think I wanna hear details and I don't wanna make you talk about it. I mean, unless you need to-"

"Trust me, I'm good." Ann assured, still chuckling in slight disbelief.

"Right!" Sylvia continued her long speech "So I figured I'd ask about the good parts! You seemed pretty familiar with the Detective so like...I just put two and two together!"

Ann was still chortling softly. "Yes. Detective Munch is one of the people on my case." she answered.

"Is he the primary?" Sylvia asked, bouncing slightly, filled with boundless energy.

Ann nodded. "How long have you two been in love?"

Ann froze. She turned her head sharply to look at the sly eyed ginger. "Excuse me?" Ann questioned, shocked.

Sylvia, looking very pleased with herself, turned away and wiggled into a comfortable spot in the chair. "Not very long then huh?"

Ann felt the red raising in her face. She crossed her arms. "And what on earth would give you the idea that he is in love with me?"

Sylvia laughed. "So you aren't denying that you are in love with him?"

Ann wasn't sure how much she liked this girl anymore. Sylvia seemed to be enjoying herself. "Annnnnn its okay! We're friends now! Girls gossip about the boys they like!"

Not this girl. She had never in her life gossiped to another girl that was not her blood relation about her feelings for a man and she had no plans to start. "Just answer the question." she stated flatly.

Sylvia's eyes flared. "Well, being a journalist in training, I did some keen observing before I came over to you." she began, Ann already not liking where this was going "He noticed you were there a whole three minutes before he said anything. He was kinda...watching you. Not in like a weird way. It was kinda like when Kyle gets a really big doughnut and he just kinda...admires it for awhile."

Ann's eyebrows shot up. "You think John is in love with me because he looked at me like a hefty cop-in-training looks at a sugar covered doughnut? That's charming." she commented with mild disgust.

Sylvia shushed her. "You know what I mean! Like he wasn't trying to spy on you but he couldn't take his eyes off you! Like...you both just...existing in the same place was...crazy!"

Ann felt the red coming back into her cheeks. As poor as her explanation was, Sylvia made sense. Ann had watched Munch the night before, unable to look away from him. As if she had never seen something so...perfect. She could not bring herself to disturb him but also could not stop drinking him in…

"Go on." Ann stated flatly, her curiosity peaked.

Sylvia chuckled mischievously. "I heard you call him by his real name instantly. Guys like him only tell you their first name if they wanna hear you say it!"

Ann gave her a small glare. "What do you mean, guys like him?"

"Well, he's older, more business like! Usually with an age gap like that, you only call them by their first name if they're a family, a family friend, or you're intimate with them. The way you two were with each other, it was clear you weren't the first to. He's too comfortable with you. Then of course, they way you guys looked at each other? Electric!"

Ann had stopped paying full attention. Could she be right? Ann had been so sure her attraction to the older man had been so one sided but… "He came to see me last night." she said bluntly.

Sylvia blinked and then grinned widely. "Tell me, tell me!" she called, wrapping her hands around Ann's.

Ann looked embarrassed. "I...I had been released from the hospital with bad news and...well I didn't have anyone to tell. I'm okay, so don't worry about it."

Sylvia had opened her mouth to ask but closed it, content with Ann's pointed words. Ann sighed and continued. "He met me at a diner late even though he should have been sleeping. The waitress said he kept looking at me but...I didn't think anything of it. Something uh...triggered me I guess and I ran off. He chased me through the rain and...well I broke down…"

Ann didn't know why she was saying all this but Sylvia was so enthralled, she wasn't talking. She nodded vigorously, encouraging Ann to go on. "I cried and he...held me. After I was done, he rode with me home. I invited him in and…"

Sylvia gasped. Ann jumped. "You and the Detective had sex?!" Sylvia exclaimed loudly.

Ann's mouth dropped, flabbergasted. "We did absolutely nothing of the sort!"

She was so flustered at the very thought, her face was deep red. "He fell asleep on my couch the moment we got inside!" Ann half scolded "What an awful thing to assume!"

She was so flustered at the very thought, her face was deep red. "He fell asleep on my couch the moment we got inside!" Ann half scolded "What an awful thing to assume!"

Sylvia burst out with laughter, confusing Ann even further. "Why are you laughing?!" she asked in a raised tone "I don't see how this is funny!"

But Sylvia was howling. "The look on your face!" she said between fits of giggles "I'm sorry it was too funny!"

Ann was fuming slightly. But, Sylvia meant well. Ann just didn't know how to feel or even...if John possibly felt the same, where could she even go from there? "I don't know what to do I guess." Ann sighed as Sylvia's laughs became soft giggles "I'm sitting here waiting for them to tell me, inevitably, that I'm going to need round the clock surveillance and all I can do is hope they give him first watch…"

Sylvia stopped laughing and let her face fall into a gentle smile. Ann leaned back and breathed. She knew it wasn't right for her to feel this way. Not that she could help it. She had spent the better half of last night beating herself up over it. It was a damn good thing her makeup skills were better than her people skills or you'd be able to see she hadn't slept much. How could she? He was right in the next room.

She knew this was doomed to fail. She knew she needed to walk away. She was always strong enough to do it...but this time…

The door the precinct opened. The girls looked up to see Detective Benson. "Ann, if you're ready, we'd like to speak to you about security detail.

Ann looked and Sylvia. Slyvia nodded. "I'll see you in class tomorrow?" She asked eagerly

Ann smiled. "Yeah, of course."


End file.
